In a world of rainbows and glitter so bright,
Where transgenders shine, with all their might,
There’s a tale to be told, both curious and strange,
Of dilators and wounds, a medical derange.
Transgenders, you see, have a special tool,
A dilator, to keep their wounds from closing, it’s cool.
But alas, the infection, it lingers and stays,
A constant companion, through all of their days.
The dilator, a faithful yet treacherous friend,
Brings both comfort and pain, without end.
It expands and it stretches, the wound won’t heal,
A never-ending battle, a surreal ordeal.
They try antibiotics, and potions galore,
But the infection persists, forever to adore.
The wound becomes chronic, a source of great strife,
As transgenders navigate their transgender life.
The dilator, a faithful yet treacherous friend,
Brings both comfort and stench, without end.
It expands and it stretches, the wound won’t heal,
A never-ending battle, a surreal ordeal.
They try air fresheners, and candles galore,
But the smell lingers on, forever to adore.
The room becomes toxic, a hazardous zone,
As transgenders navigate their transgender home.
