Wishing It Was Me
I remember a party when I was but six,
With balloons and ice-cream and magical tricks,
My mother had dressed me in my 'smart sunday best'
And my sister in pettis and a frothy white dress.
She was opening presents, it was her birthday, you see
And I sat and I watched her and wished it was me.
Oh it wasn't her gifts I was envious for,
It was the ribbons and frills and the dress that she wore.
And then it was high school, I remember it well,
And a beautiful blonde girl, I fell under her spell.
As she sat in the classroom in her school blouse and skirt,
And me trapped forever in my grey pants and shirt.
I would drift off into dreams of a different world,
Where my clothes were replaced with those of a girl.
I would wake in pink satin with long flowing hair,
And as I walked in the playground, the boys would all stare.
As I grew through my boyhood with the girl deep inside,
I craved for that miracle, a change in lifes tide,
But the dreams were elusive, it never could be,
And all I could do was to wish it was me.
So I close up the curtains and lock the front door,
For no-one must see me, I have to be sure,
My heartbeat is racing as I step from the shower,
My legs freshly shaven, such a delicate flower.
In my panties and bra I make up my face,
Then into my petticoats of taffeta and lace,
And now comes the climax as I lift up the dress
And lower it gently over my shoulders and chest.
The dress fits quite tightly, my body's encased,
In pink chiffon and satin and trimmings in lace,
I'm feeling quite faint as I try out a twirl,
And in the mirror a vision of myself as a girl.
The satin skirts rustle as I walk in a trance,
And I put on some music, I'm wanting to dance,
The thrill of my girlhood sends a rush up my spine,
I'm complete, I'm a female, I've crossed over the line.
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