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Poem

Apparently it’s a p**is that makes a man these days 
Never mind the testosterone that fuels an angry craze
A testosterone filled vag**a made of real human flesh 
Seems way better than an estrogen filled p**is in a dress
This muted feeble phalange is a danger to our most revered
And a rugged hairy man-looking "girl" is never to be feared
People feel safe around an anxious displaced bearded “woman”
-Especially in private while getting ready and peeing in the can-
Far more comfortable than a meek soft tender "man" in heels
Applying makeup, fixing her hair, and living her own ideals
It seems as though people are allowed to be people these days
Which is fine as long as no one is comfortable in their own ways
And protection of the righteous ones (especially those with green eyes)
Supersedes the basic rights of a lesser class lacking moral tithes
So in that case, send the angry misplaced stubbly “woman” instead
Our daughters can handle that much more than a p**is walking dead.

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