I Always Thought Audrey Tautou Would Play Me

So, according to The Awe-Manac, it is Bad Poetry Day. What kind of reader would I be if I did not give due diligence?
...
Clouds unbegrudgingly flutter by as though tempting me to speak.
I am brought to tears, childhood fancies ruining the surprise.
"Where shall I go?" wearied travelers lament in a collective sigh.
This is Earth, this is the world.
The waves tumble down as if the burdens of the world unite,
churning and swishing in a melancholy bitter sweet.
The rich indigo hues a welcome respite from the puffy white,
yet unforgivingly mirroring the persistence of the unrequited.
Protection no longer, sleep a wistful fantasy.
I shun all. I am all.
...
Stuff I typically hate in poetry: adjectives for the sake of adjectives, manufactured imagery, melodramatic connections between one's own emotions and the fate of the world.

Stuff I love, however, about this picture: this is what I like to imagine I look like when I go to work (this seems like something I would pick out); it hearkens a modern day Elizabeth Bennett; I hope to one day be classy and fabulous.

Your assignment: Write your own bad poetry. It's funny.
Look through magazines and pick out what "looks like you."