- Joined
- May 2, 2021
A poem I have written,
So this poem, I hope you will be smitten.
Ahem…
Your attempts to become female are useless,
All the surgeries you get will be fruitless.
You may not have a dick,
But you still will never be a chick.
Although becoming a lady is what you desire,
You, they will never admire.
Although you wish to become female,
Your attempts will always fail.
They only look at you in disgust,
You, they will never lust.
You look in the mirror and what do you see?
You still are not a lady.
You eventually will throw a fit,
That no one gives a single shit.
The attention you seek will not be given,
To suicide you will be driven.
You will look and see your disgusting form,
To a woman you will never transform.
You will go to the store and buy a rope,
Your male form you still will cope.
You will go home and tie a noose,
Make sure it is tight not loose.
Into the rope you will plunge,
Your miserable existence it shall expunge.
You are now part of the forty one percent,
To hell you shall now be sent.
From this place you shall never be freed,
So I say, eternally sneed.
So my poem you have just read,
Thank you, you should go to bed.
So this poem, I hope you will be smitten.
Ahem…
Your attempts to become female are useless,
All the surgeries you get will be fruitless.
You may not have a dick,
But you still will never be a chick.
Although becoming a lady is what you desire,
You, they will never admire.
Although you wish to become female,
Your attempts will always fail.
They only look at you in disgust,
You, they will never lust.
You look in the mirror and what do you see?
You still are not a lady.
You eventually will throw a fit,
That no one gives a single shit.
The attention you seek will not be given,
To suicide you will be driven.
You will look and see your disgusting form,
To a woman you will never transform.
You will go to the store and buy a rope,
Your male form you still will cope.
You will go home and tie a noose,
Make sure it is tight not loose.
Into the rope you will plunge,
Your miserable existence it shall expunge.
You are now part of the forty one percent,
To hell you shall now be sent.
From this place you shall never be freed,
So I say, eternally sneed.
So my poem you have just read,
Thank you, you should go to bed.
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