Hidden under exteriors
of callous skin and eyes
that see far into the distance
there are people.
They learned to play the trumpet
they apprenticed as barbers
fell into a life
(possibly of their own choosing)
that gave them meaning
filled them with pride
and provided for them
a desire that forced their hands.
Though they could be considered proud
they will hardly talk about it at all
the actions of their surroundings
haven spoken more than enough