Wabush
Shadows of a life, past the ore piles,
Vaguely knowing the world beyond this place,
Prefab homes tended with pride,
Struggling to maintain some semblance,
Of life as shown on television and magazines
Snowmobiles and quads decorate lawns
Chasing a dream they have never seen,
But often hear off in the future
Digging dirt for dollars, worn out before their time
At day’s end the cafeteria, speaks of junior high school,
Relived every day, a place left years ago as boys
These men who can never graduate beyond,
Mere shadows who never had a chance.
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