Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Tbird343Poems
I drive the night because of open road. My retreads are sounding strong. Hauling cars up from New Orleans Where I'm not sure that I belonged. Traded whiskey for a woman At a bar in Abilene. Then a long haul up to Portland town Helped along by methadrine.                  There’s a lady there in Stumptown She dances on the pole Makes her pay in dollar bills She's never ever home Daylight fades and night descends Men come, await their fate. She ***** them dry and infects their soul, Relights her lamp and waits… She goes to church on Sunday. Always comes in late. She says a prayer, she sheds a tear, puts food stamps in the plate. Dropped my load down at the docks there's a motel by the sea. Homebase for my Peterbilt That's parked out by the tree Called her up, the kids are home. I hear them laughining on the phone. Grandma says she"s not around, But she'll tell her I'm in town. “Yea. tell her I'm in town again And kiss the kids for me, Gotta leave on Tuesday”. Hung up and fell asleep. The phone rang in the morning. The call was short and sweet. She had some things she had to do, Didn’t think that we could meet. Fueling up, the fog horns moan. Red pills to feed the beast. A woman left back in the fog. A white line headed east.   Look at my life        Some say I've sinned.            My dreams were blown away                  By the cruel ...                         Highway Wind.
0
Oct 2, 2025
Oct 2, 2025 at 4:31 PM UTC
Highway Wind
I drive the night because of open road. My retreads are sounding strong. Hauling cars up from New Orleans Where I'm not sure that I belonged. Traded whiskey for a woman At a bar in Abilene. Then a long haul up to Portland town Helped along by methadrine.                  There’s a lady there in Stumptown She dances on the pole Makes her pay in dollar bills She's never ever home Daylight fades and night descends Men come, await their fate. She ***** them dry and infects their soul, Relights her lamp and waits… She goes to church on Sunday. Always comes in late. She says a prayer, she sheds a tear, puts food stamps in the plate. Dropped my load down at the docks there's a motel by the sea. Homebase for my Peterbilt That's parked out by the tree Called her up, the kids are home. I hear them laughining on the phone. Grandma says she"s not around, But she'll tell her I'm in town. “Yea. tell her I'm in town again And kiss the kids for me, Gotta leave on Tuesday”. Hung up and fell asleep. The phone rang in the morning. The call was short and sweet. She had some things she had to do, Didn’t think that we could meet. Fueling up, the fog horns moan. Red pills to feed the beast. A woman left back in the fog. A white line headed east.   Look at my life        Some say I've sinned.            My dreams were blown away                  By the cruel ...                         Highway Wind.
#trucker
Written by
Tbird343
76/Two-Spirit
Oct 2, 2025
Oct 2, 2025 at 4:31 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem