deepundergroundpoetry.com

Plastic People  

Plastic people with plastic hair
Hanging out in designer plastic chairs
Having themselves a plastic conversation  
With plastic brains in plastic contemplation  
 
We’ll talk about our plastic idols
Compare ourselves to plastic models
Look down at those in plastic hovels
Pretend we’ve read all the best plastic novels
 
And reality fades in a world of lies
Where everyone pretends they’re really alive
With plastic possessions, they can survive
Through every plastic dream they can contrive
 
There’s got to be more to life than this  
There’s got to be more to love than a plastic kiss
Tangled up in bubble-wrapped plastic bliss
Lingering on the edge of reality’s abyss
 
Dress me up in plastic clothes
Dope me up for a plastic nose
Cut and paste for a better plastic body  
As if it can really make me somebody
 
Manufacture me a plastic home
With plastic friends I can own  
To call me on a plastic phone  
With plastic worries, to which I can bitch and moan  
 
And where is my plastic car?
That we all know won’t get me far  
When it’s not enough to make me a plastic star  
Sit me down to get drunk at a plastic bar
 
There’s got to be more to life than this  
There’s got to be more to love than a plastic kiss
Tangled up in bubble-wrapped plastic bliss
Lingering on the edge of reality’s abyss
 
Mannequin girls and mannequin boys  
Playing with each other like plastic toys
Bitching like they’re plastically annoyed
While they’re plastic fantasies keep them buoyed  
 
Plastic smokes and plastic wine
With plastic drugs that won’t get me high
Living like we’ll never die  
High society’s plastic groom and bride
 
At a plastic wedding with manufactured tunes
Ignoring the plastic divorce that’ll be coming soon  
Plastic possessions given and consumed  
With plastic promises, under a plastic moon  
 
There’s got to be more to life than this  
There’s got to be more to love than a plastic kiss
Tangled up in bubble-wrapped plastic bliss
Lingering on the edge of reality’s abyss
 
Plastic people with no souls
In a heat-wave they stay cold
Their plastic lives are getting old
To their plastic way, I’m not sold
 
‘Cause their plastic world’s just not enough  
And I can do without they’re plastic love
And do I really need more plastic stuff?
To pile our land-fill higher up
 
Plastic dreams and plastic days
With plastic promises to make me stay  
But of my own path I'm not afraid
‘Cause to this plastic life I refuse to be enslaved

© Indie Adams 2011
(Updated 2013)
Indie
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published | Edited 11th Jul 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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