I drive a big, black, gold plated eighteen wheel rig. Next to anything else, on the open road; it is real big. Men have a one track mind, thinking I can't handle a truck. On the road, especially a long haul; I can make a big buck. Between rest stops, I check my big rig and each wheel. Then on the highway, I zoom off my rubber; I will peel. I have gotten use to traveling and the long distance. I very seldom ask for any kind of help or assistance. While others often complain, whine, and sometimes balk. We women truck drivers simply just talk, talk, and talk. I can do maintenance on my truck and my air brake. When I get home to my honey, I will bake him a cake. I will go down the road happy as a lark, singing a song. However, this load might take me clear to Hong Kong. I keep my gold plated wheels from getting dirty and rusty. My CB handle is easy to remember; it's Mary Gusty. Copyright (C) 1995 Marva L. Dowdin
Reason for writing:
I have written many poems about the life of a truck
driver, whether men or women. The fact that they
take to the road at all hours of the day or night.
This must be especially hard for a lady driver and
her family, friends, and spouses. Through the rain,
snow, and hail; they are doing a great job of getting
the products and various foods, clothes, computers,
and household goods to us. All kinds of hardships
and dangers on the road. We felt the void during
the Storm of 96. For this reason, I am campaigning
for them a special day called "Trucker's Appreciation
Day" or T.A.D. just for them. Marva L. Dowdin
Birth sign: Not entered
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