The Assassination of Cherries

He plucked me from the tree;

The home I've always known. 

Then dropped me in a bucket 

With other cherries plucked from home. 

When he filled the bucket,

Not one of us could respire.

Then into a big box we slid. 

It was there we almost expired. 

Not long thereafter,

There was a bouncing repercussion 

As I was smothered between the others.

I thought," this is an assassination." 

Our box was placed in a kitchen 

Where we watched a cherries de-steming. 

The human had no heart. 

This sight it was abhorring. 

After I'd been ripped apart,

I was place into the hammer bowl.

When it was my turn the hammer fell

I felt my pit drop, I had no control. 

I then got submerged

In a sink of warm water. 

Then I emerged with many others 

And we were dropped into a container. 

From there I went into a hot jar

That was packed to tight to respire. 

To make thing even worse 

Hot syrup was dumped atop of us. 

We watched in horror 

As the lid went on the jar. 

Then the jar was lifted and dropped 

And I remember nothing more. 

By Evelyn Creon