Chichicastanango

I'm not a cherry-picker,
I'm a cherry-picked's chum.
Someone picked my cherry,
And left me feeling numb.

It happened at a party,
I got there very late.
We met over vol-u-vents
And decided it was fate.

He took me a darkroom,
and then he spiked my glass
without my knowing. Then proceeded
to undress me very fast.

He was very popular
and lived up to the hype.
He said my little cherry
was really overripe.

And so I let him pick it.
Do with it what he would.
I couldn't stop it happening
although perhaps I should

have done, but he was
very strong. I knew that
even walking there
he meant to do me wrong.

And so I hate those cherries,
And I hate the sight of fruit.
All because some guy decided
that he thought "she's cute".