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| − | Harry the Cross Dresser.
| + | Category for kinky poems and verse |
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| − | Rubber lover, Harrietta
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| − | Is not a brother, or a fella.
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| − | He has false tits, and kitten heels
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| − | Not a chest and ankles made of steel
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| − | | + | [[Category:Art]] |
| − | His spiky rubber bag is old,
| + | [[Category:Other Topics]] |
| − | Cleverly patched with a Marigold.
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| − | It’s been so long since he wore cotton
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| − | And only zips, never a button
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| − | Harry’s a rubber Tube commuter,
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| − | Six foot tall in his Trannymuters.
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| − | Lots of people stop and stare
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| − | Even more when he had pink hair.
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| − | Being a punk was such hard work,
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| − | Every day another jerk!
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| − | Better to dye it back to brown
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| − | Play his fetish lifestyle down.
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| − | A little less attention is better
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| − | When all he wants is bread n butter
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| − | Down to his local corner shop,
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| − | In skin tight leggings and a belly top.
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| − | He could blend if he wore a sweater,
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| − | Or maybe brown corduroys would be better,
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| − | That’s what a loving woman would ask
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| − | It had happened in Harry’s past.
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| − | He’d had a wife, who he loved dearly,
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| − | But she couldn’t understand him clearly,
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| − | Take off that dress and put on some trousers!
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| − | What about mother? Think of the neighbors!
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| − | It went on like that for years.
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| − | Lots of heart ache, floods of tears.
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| − | Even though she was his lover,
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| − | He felt like they didn’t know each other.
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| − | Then on a bight and sunny morning,
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| − | Came the last, the ultimate warning,
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| − | ‘Harry, I want you as a man!’
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| − | ‘You’re turning me into a lesbian!’
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| − | He was forced to wisely choose,
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| − | The rubber-wear would surly loose
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| − | He had made his vowels for life.
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| − | How could he just leave his (darling) wife?
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| − | The only decent thing to do
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| − | Was to be loyal…to be true.
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| − | But then depression set right in,
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| − | When all his beloved rubber was thrown in the bin!
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| − | Time stood still for a couple of year,
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| − | Lots more heart ache, rivers of tears
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| − | For he missed rubber in his (now) sad life
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| − | More than he would miss his nagging (dear) wife.
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| − | This could not go on forever,
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| − | He needed a friend not a jealous lover.
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| − | Maybe she didn’t like his feminine side
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| − | But Harry loved dear Harrietta with pride.
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| − | So one sad day they said goodbye,
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| − | With no questioning or reasoning, why.
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| − | It was how it was meant to be,
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| − | She was free…and so was SHE!
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| − | Alone again, but not as much
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| − | Much more honest, much more in trust.
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| − | For Harry loves all things feminine,
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| − | Now the woman he holds dearest lives within…him.
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| − | Mistress Feral
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