thetruckersreport.com has this poem posted on it's main page, again I ask who is calling the kettle black? class="node"> class="content"> I travel alone all over the road. The cars pass by, they look like bugs. I am up high in my rig, alone, stressed, tired and mad! Cars past me by real fast. They think they own the road, but wait 'till i crush them, they will cry for mercy! My 18 wheels will crush them and hurt them. Someday that will happen, but for now I travel alone high in my rig. I am mad,