Plastic People with plastic hearts,
Plastic men with plastic parts,
They are here, strongly standing,
Robotic beings, never demanding.
On they come, mass produced
Buying plastic goods, Freud induced.
Ever improving without emotions,
Mechanically buying perfumes and lotions,
The plastic man and woman in conjunction
Have produced the plastic generation,
That which thrives on the bland and safe,
Never knowing, never caring for the starving waif.
With canned adventure and plastic love
They live until they die to go above
To seek their reward for serving so well,
Myself, I'd rather be in Hell!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem