In the world of plastic, everything is fine,

Everyone stands tall, and none of us can cry.

In the world of plastic, our lives our perfect,

We're born and we die, absent of defect.

Our colors never change, we have the same emotion on our face,

We can't yell at each other, because we have nothing to say.

Our master's own us, they tell us what to do,

Like puppets we live, no complaint can come through.

In the world of plastic, we're all made the same,

The guys and the girls, each feel the same old pain.

We might think different, but we'd still look the same.

In this plastic world there'd be no worry of being called by our names.

In a world of plastic, we all have the same hair style,

We have the same clothes, we have the same fake smile.

None of us are different, no one's too skinny or too fat,

We don't have a race, no one's red, or white, or black.

If only we could all be dolls.

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Ruth Lovejoy's picture

Your last stanza really sums it up ,Ilike the truth you show here!