Articles by Uncle Buck

Tumbleweed

Lying here, Alone in my bed, It’s like a vast desert, With sand a burnt red. This feeling of emptiness, Of sleeping alone, It’s just like a tumbleweed, By the desert winds blown. To look at it moving, It seems but so free, But there’s a side of the tumbleweed,

For My Cousin

When life is real shit, And things look real dim, Just take a step back, And things aren’t so grim. There are people that love you, People that care, People all ’round you, Yet you think we’re rare. I know what I say, May not seem so true, But the

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