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Kayden 2d
In the quiet green of a sunlit vine,  
Where dewdrops rest and shadows twine,  
Lies a melon round, with a heavy sigh,  
In fields where days drift idly by.  

Soft and sweet, its flesh inside,  
A tender heart it tries to hide,  
Yet weighed with seeds of fleeting cheer,  
Its sweetness tinged with hints of fear.  

It’s summer’s child with autumn’s gaze,  
Golden light in shorter days,  
Both ripe and raw, it knows too well  
The taste of joy on the edge of farewell.  

And as the fields turn bare and cold,  
The melon dreams of days of old,  
Of laughter, warmth, and skies so high—  
A sweetness meant to say goodbye.
Theme and Tone:
"Meloncoly" explores the bittersweet nature of endings, using the metaphor of a melon to evoke themes of nostalgia, ripeness, and the passage of time. The poem's title, a play on "melancholy," suggests a feeling of gentle sadness associated with change and loss, reflecting the subtle beauty of natural cycles.

Imagery and Symbolism:
The melon represents fleeting happiness and the inevitable approach of loss. Its “tender heart” and “heavy sigh” imply an emotional weight hidden within its sweet surface, much like how joy often conceals sadness. The contrasting images of “golden light” and “bare and cold” fields symbolize the shift from abundance to emptiness, from summer to autumn, emphasizing the idea that all things pass.

Structure and Language:
The four quatrains are simple yet rhythmic, much like traditional pastoral poetry. This steady form mirrors the natural, predictable changes of seasons. Phrases like “fleeting cheer,” “tender heart,” and “sunlit vine” evoke softness and gentleness, while lines like “both ripe and raw” hint at the complexity of emotions that ripen with time.

Tone of Farewell:
The poem ends with a sense of departure and reflection, suggesting that sweetness and joy are always, in a sense, fleeting. It leaves the reader with a contemplative, somewhat wistful feeling, as the melon “dreams of days of old,” encapsulating the essence of "meloncoly."
Kayden 3d
We climb through days of broken stone,
hands raw from clutching all we own;
a weight unseen, a silent yoke,
and words that leave us choked and soaked.

Against the odds, we stand and fight,
in shadows thick as endless night,
our dreams like embers flickering low,
yet stoked by fires we barely know.

We wear our scars like secret steel,
a testament to wounds that heal;
for every fall, for every scar,
a piece of who we truly are.

In tangled paths, through storms that sing,
we feel the ache, the sharpened sting,
but somewhere in the howl and blur,
we find the strength to rise, endure.

So here we stand, though battered, worn,
from battles lost, from places torn—
a human heart, relentless, fierce,
with light enough to break and pierce.
This poem speaks to the resilience within each of us, capturing the quiet heroism of pushing through life’s hardest challenges.
Kayden Jul 2021
Tick tock...tick tock...
Life is counting down on your internal clock.

Memories that feel as if they occurred yesterday
turn to flashes of moments that seem to fade away.

People you once knew
walk by without a clue.

The times you once shared
exist as if you were never there.

Years fly...friends die...
and you never know when you'll say your last goodbye.

Oh, how I wish I could turn back time,
spend it with loved ones and cherish what once was mine.

Or to go back even more,
being a kid in a candy store.

How I miss the way I used to feel
on Christmas day when Santa was real.

But back to reality...back to today,
family is scarce and memories continue to fade away.

Tick tock...tick tock...
How I wish I could control this clock.
Kayden Sep 2020
I just need time to think things through in my head,
I've dreamt about times where i have been on my death-bed.
a wise man once said,
Be careful where you tread.
Be careful you don't trigger the wild PTSD that left you for dead.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
So deadly its guilty of first degree ******,
Its crazy to think you remember your kills, In order.
Kayden Sep 2020
Have you ever felt like you are trapped?
In a world that is not your own?

Well... What if i told you i know the feeling.
I was Captive to the United States of America for 6 years,
forced away from everything just to face my fears.
To fight and "serve" my country.
when as a matter of fact i was protecting one thing,
The reputation of my country.
I wasn't serving i was hurting,
and while i was brainwashed into hurting innocent people
i couldn't even take my rifle off of lethal.

I was stuck.
Captive.
I wasn't free.
a short poem about my time serving
Kayden Aug 2020
Where are you going?
What will you do?

You are stuck,
Left with a disease that will take over
Your luck is running out
It's like finding a four leaf clover
And in a split second…
It could all be over.
Your life, your dreams, your family…
Gone in an instant.
The pain is constant,
As each strand of hair goes
it reminds you of a flower,
You're losing your petals.
Losing your beauty and pride.
The depression has you feeling like a high tide
Then all of a sudden you get denied.
You didn't even get your chance to become a bride.
C-A-N-C-E-R
The very letters i can not say together.
Its toxins cling to its victims.
When you think it's gone it comes back
This is a poem about cancer, My heart goes out to everyone suffering.
Kayden Aug 2020
Black Lives Matter.

It's a phrase on banners, TV, Sports and more
Can we just take a backseat from violence and gore?
Think of all the children, mentally damaged at the core
From all the racial abuse,
We don’t need another generation of blues
Obviously these cops don't have anything to lose.
Don't have to worry, their badge is their excuse.

Black Lives Matter.

Ignorance, is the laws largest ally,
The black community wanted to speak up but were too shy.
Screaming out the blues like it comes naturally.
In reality it's what they think actually.
When they get stopped they prey for no casualty.
Deep down they know all they feel is agony.

Black Lives Matter.

All the pain to the black community is caused manually.
None of this was done automatically
They urge us not to act dramatically,
Wishing they would go back to the police academy.
Learn how to control themselves,
Now we gotta brace ourselves.

What is to come?

Black Lives Matter
This is a poem i wrote during the unfortunate events of George Floyd's death. RIP to every innocent black life that has been killed by police brutality and abuse of power.

— The End —