<font color="red">Riding on Llamas</font>

Coffee is my lifeline. My friends are my lovers. Mimi is my life partner. There are lines on my covers. I have a funny last name. My purse is a "Dirt Bag". I draw extremely terribly. I am a true female fag. I dream fairly backwards. My writing is the shits. My coffee cup says "Mac's" on it. This poem is the pits. How do I come up with such nonsense? Inexperience? Truth? Selfishness? The inability to control my mind. Also with such abrasiveness. I think I'm going to end this now. One last stanza, a few extra lines. Because it's going absolutely nowhere, people's poems are better, than all of mine combined.