Underneath my plastic tree
Are plastic presents wrapped with glee
And plastic tape as you can see.
Nearby there's a nativity
(Made of plastic, naturally)
With its plastic babe fast asleep,
Watched over by placid plastic sheep,
And plastic shepherds that quietly creep,
As plastic angels from the rooftop peep.
Beside it stand my plastic wife . . .
My plastic children . . .
My plastic life.