The man stood in the corner.
Tousled his hair like a rock star.
It's in his genes you know.
For he's a man in a dress.
Maybe a man in drag?
Make-up plastered on with a trowel.
Quickly darling chuck him a towel.
To wipe away his blusher.
Wants to be a lady fair.
Her chin is rather bristly.
It gives the game away.
Inside the hardened exterior hides a lady.
Sweet and pure.
Local kiddies take the p.
You see.
Due to lack of understanding.
Missing sympathy.
Kiddies all chuckle at that strange
man.
The fella who wants to be free.
He's a man in a dress.
He ain't got no regrets.
In all sincerity.
He's a lady inside.
He's a man in a dress.
He likes it best.
They all say that breast is best.
The lady is excited.
Cultivated breasts.
Procured by things hormonal.
Hairy chin.
Evening shadow.
Perfect skin.
The silhouette perfect shape.
That man he wore a dress.
But he's a lady now.
And she's a cheerful soul.
(c)LIVVI