Trucker Joe's Lament
He lost his job, now drives a rig.
The pros are small; the cons are big.
A sleeper cab is his abode
on tedious and lonesome road.
In Old West days, a steed he’d mount;
now yellow lines he cannot count.
A steady stream, long have they flowed
on tedious and lonesome road.
A ribbon flat, it sometimes winds,
descends or climbs until he finds
it’s all one constant episode
on tedious and lonesome road.
By some he’s loathed along the path.
For taking space, he’s shown their wrath.
Sparse traffic lessens not his load
on tedious and lonesome road.
He drives and while he drives, he yearns
for life’s return; his stomach churns.
He knows his hope but can erode
on tedious and lonesome road.
For the Solitude Contest of scott thirtyseven
(Some truck drivers have a very hard and lonely life and it's even worse
when they work for companies that couldn't care less about their welfare)
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