(History Poem) American History Of My Time

AMERICAN HISTORY OF MY TIME

 

In the depths of 1950’s poverty, Appalachia

Coal dust in your lungs, eyes, nose and hair

Sawdust blankets your morning  work ride

Odd gratitude for working till the day we die

So sad that so many have left us so young

Pathway to Heaven washed in my mothers tears

 

1960’s the enlightenment to some of the Nation’s ills

Poverty and racism is a disease to any and all people on Earth

Three Leaders killed by the hate behind the trigger of a gun

Another Asian War raging on, that we should have never begun

Mr. Johnson and Nixon were all those lives necessary to end

Answer to the families, why was it our policies were not to win

 

The 1970’s to say the least was an odd time in our land

One war ended, but another one was Nixon was set to begin

Surgeon General’s advise was worthless against Nixon’s rage

With the stroke of his pen this War Criminal must have grinned

Nixon’s signature making Class I criminals of freedom loving millions

Peace loving, anti-war, pot heads, Nixon got even for ending Vietnam

 

80’s began with our civilians still illegally imprisoned in Iran

Coward ambushed the President, one didn’t get to walk again

For eight years we had a President who gave us some pride again

From disco to head-banging, to country starting to spur life again

25 Married a second time to a woman who hated the air I breathed

Life through a windshield, it would be till I broke down or died

 

The 1990’s were rough anyway I sliced these years of my life

Heartaches and heart attacks, so many times, VA full of crime

For eight years we had Mr. Bill, had the coolest hair on the Hill

One war in the dust, to save an old friend with oil and our blood

Throw a bomb or two at the bad boy of Baghdad and boys two

When George W. got the job, the three will get to meet their end

 

2000 the new millennium, the computer disaster that wasn’t

The computers people worship, could they create the zero

Married the whole decade, no idea what she sees in me

Sometimes when you pass the time in life you were given

As one’s health fades, and your eyes dim, the Soul still sees

Education and Degrees at this stage in life, quite a surprise

 

When I leave to meet our maker, please shed no tears for me

I thank the Lord each day for the ways I have been blessed

When our body degrades our Soul’s eyes are sometimes grateful

At my funeral please sing Amazing Grace and Peace In The Valley

Please sing our favorite George Straight song, Cross My Heart

As they put me in the ground, sing ‘The Dance’, don’t cry for me

We are all standing in the walkway to Heaven when this life ends

 

Life Through A Windshield (The Life Of An American Truck Driver)

 

Life through a Windshield

In 81’ the story began, first with my brother and then with a friend

Seeing life through a windshield like a gypsy on eighteen wheels

But when you do this for a living it’s life you will soon omit

White line fever they call it in song

White lines on the concrete is to what you now belong

The back rows of the truck stops and the cab of a truck is your home

From Beantown to Shaky to big D then Windy you roam

Dispatch can get you a load to anywhere except the state you belong

Driving your shiny KW is not just a job now you see

Through the windshield is your life on this unending concrete sea

Aspirin, Doans’s Pills and Preparation H

Always part of your luggage because that hot load just can’t wait

Truck driving is a hobby for the homeless no roots do you need

Life through the windshield is now the life you can’t leave.

Life Through A Windshield: (The Life Of An American Truck Driver)

Life through a Windshield

 

In 81’ the story began, first with my brother and then with a friend

Seeing life through a windshield like a gypsy on eighteen wheels

But when you do this for a living it’s life you will soon omit

White line fever they call it in song

White lines on the concrete is to what you now belong

The back rows of the truck stops and the cab of a truck is your home

From Beantown to Shaky to big D then Windy you roam

Dispatch can get you a load to anywhere except the state you belong

Driving your shiny KW is not just a job now you see

Through the windshield is your life on this unending concrete sea

Aspirin, Doans’s Pills and Preparation H

Always part of your luggage because that hot load just can’t wait

Truck driving is a hobby for the homeless no roots do you need

Life through the windshield is now the life you can’t leave.

Life Through A Windsheild

Life through a Windshield

In 81’ the story began, first with my brother and then with a friend

Seeing life through a windshield like a gypsy on eighteen wheels

But when you do this for a living it’s life you omit.

White line fever they call it in song

White lines on the concrete is to what you belong

The back rows of the truck stops and the cab of a truck is your home.

From Beantown to Shaky to big D then Windy you roam

Dispatch can get you a load to anywhere except the state you belong.

Driving your shiny KW is not just a job now you see

Through the windshield is your life on this unending concrete sea.

Aspirin, Doan’s Pills and Preparation H

Always part of your luggage because that hot load can’t wait.

Truck driving is a hobby for the homeless no roots do you need

Life through the windshield is now the life you can’t leave.