Plastic people, with their rubber dreams and artificial passions.

They're raised by their plastic parents who give them wax smiles, hollow promises for a future.

Plastic people and their perfectly polished personalities have superficial beliefs in which they are the center.

Their corrupted ideals on intelligence place others in categories of A through F, score them out of 100.

Plastic people know nothing beyond the realm of themselves; their selfless actions preceeded by selfish thoughts.

Skills wasted singing self-centered songs, writing conceited poetry.

A plastic person does not know that they are Plastic, but will accuse others of being so.

Now, what does that make me?