Plastic people

[Neal Allen (snowtracks)]

Some years ago after I attended a party at a rich house. I was introduced to people who could only talk about their luxury cars and society happenings and that night I could not sleep wondering who really lived inside their heads. In the morning I had to pen this little rhyme.

Thoughts after meeting two plastic people

Here’s a flower for you my love
You must admit it’s bright
You’ll find it lasts for ever
Through the day and through the night.

It has no scent & cannot grow,
But it’s the best, that’s true
It’s made of plastic stuff you know
Of paper and of glue.

There are no more real hours
In the garden of our dreams,
So we nurture plastic flowers and
Our life’s not what it seems.

[Brigid Briton]

Hi Neal,

I especially love, "there are no more real hours in the garden of our dreams."

[diannet]

I've been a waitress at such events...and it makes you wonder but then again it's not only the rich who are plastic and shallow...the way the world is these days that narrow viewpoint is awarded to many...

I did love "it has no scent and cannot grow" which sums it up really.

[Neal Allen (snowtracks)]

Thanks for the comments Brigid & Dianne. One should not be cynical but sometimes I just can't help it.

[diannet]

Ha ha Neal it's just the sign of the times...it's hard not to be sometimes.

[dustandwater]

Neal,

One should always be cynical lest he himself becomes plastic!

[Neal Allen (snowtracks)]

Ah squire. Thee speakest most verily