Fable

They’re dancing in Chaplain’s

She’s only fifteen

She’s naive and gorgeous

He’s fit and he’s keen

 

It’s clear she’s a virgin

He just doesn’t care

He gropes at her bottom

She fondles his hair

  

They’re dancing so dirty

She feels so grown up

Her friends are all envious

Her partner’s fucked up

 

He asks ‘Can I walk you’

She knows she should not

He smiles very sweetly

She’s feeling so hot

 

She talks to her posse

They warn her of it

They’ve heard about condoms

It doesn’t mean shit

 

He’s stopped there to kiss her

She thinks that’s enough

She thought he’d be gentle

He’s getting quite rough

 

He rips her dress open

It doesn’t feel right

She asks him to stop

And he tells her she’s tight

 

He takes off his trousers

She’s too scared to move

He says ‘kiss my precious’

She just wanted love

 

She kisses his fingers

He fingers her

She sees her first hard on

He asks ‘how is that’

 

Then says, ‘are you ready?’

He enters then sighs

Then pains is astounding

She screams and she cries

  

She hates how he’s stabbing

The films aren’t like this

It’s cold, unromantic

Who’s taking the piss?

 

He’s finished, he’s smoking

She’s aged by ten years

He asks if she came

And she vows, no more beers

 

Her mum’s sympathetic

She’s shocked but she’s cool

They go to the doctor’s

She has to miss school

  

She still goes to nightclubs

She’s taking the pill

She drinks now and then

But she doesn’t get ill.