Coke. Coke. She drinks coke.
Smoke. Smoke. She don't smoke.
Coke makes her high.
It makes her fly.
The little red can,
Makes her need a fan.
She drinks Coke.
It ain't no joke.
She sings a litte song.
And does a little dance.
All because that coke,
Put her in a trance.
This poem was written for a friend of mine (Rachel), who, shall we say... LOVES Coke. Granted I am not talking about the drug, but the drink. This was pretty funny. I wrote it in my Ecology class. Who says you gotta do work in school? It was written on April 30th, 1998.
