Uncle Dickey

I remember Uncle Dickey,
He lived all is life, a bit freaky,
He loved fast cars, driving and speeding,
No matter how much, we were asking and pleading,
Until one-day, Uncle Dickey did a wheelie,
Passing between two motorcycles quiet freely,
It turned out, that the cycles coming towards him in the fog,
Was a truck, hidden by the smog,
Thus, Uncle Dickey did a wheelie one last time,
We buried him that night under a dime,

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