Poem from a Trucker's Wife

Quality of Life?

The life of this vagabond
is definitely not care free,
This hobo life I live is
actually quite horrible to me.

Some see it as a type of freedom
and a way to get away,
But many are those who evade
the drudgeries of every day.

I used to be a social person
and loved having my family around,
But in this life of solitude
I feel like I will drown.

While most people may not think about it,
I have to watch what, when, and where I even eat,
because just simple things like bathrooms
can be very few and far between.

Constantly being bounced and jostled
while traveling down the road,
With back and hips and kidneys hurting,
Just to deliver a stupid load.

I barely even know the day of the week
and usually could care less,
Because none of that really matters
since every day is the same as the last

Sleep time is quite uncomfortable
sitting on a slope,
So as for getting any real rest,
I've given up all hope.

This truck feels like a prison,
it's like I'm solitarily confined.
I've tried doing right in my life,
so how did I end up doing time.

I hate this lifestyle,
it just makes me want to scream,
But until this nightmare finally ends,
all I have are my day dreams.

While all of my muscles are getting atrophied
and turning to solid fat,
I try to escape within my mind
so I can get out of where I'm actually at.

He seems to enjoy it.
Afterall, this is the lifestyle that he chose.
He keeps focused and busy,
and obviously never minded being alone.

But I feel as if I'm going crazy,
And my life is not my own.
I can feel more brain cells dying,
And all I want is to go Home.

I have anger and resentment,
I did not want this for my life.
There has been very little Quality
for THIS truck driver's wife.

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