Watermelon's Melancholy Poem🍈🍉

There once was a watermelon

who was melancholy because he didn’t know two things.

He was melancholy because he didn’t know how to pronounce the word melancholy.

He was melancholy because he didn’t understand the word melancholy.

So he sat in his little bed of water-soaked dirt

Wrapped in a reassuring blanket of melon leaves

Spending long hours contemplating

Separating the syllables apart

Till he fell asleep on the warm soil

Captured by the kind sun.

In his dreams, he pictured the word

Floating between the comforting leaves

But more importantly,

One day, his friend, an unnamed watermelon,

was broken off from the branch

snatched away from the motherly blanket of leaves

they had grown to love

grown to understand.

Melon’s friend was Melon’s confidant

the one he expressed his question

about whether Melancholy was Melan-choly

Like the way one pronounced chocolate

He knew chocolate

Because he had heard one of the farmer’s on the field

Whisper the word to another farmer.

Melon wanted to find his old friend

So he grew, and grew

Grateful for the shade of the watermelon leaves

Absorbing the nutrients the vines had gifted him

To be picked by a farmer

Much like how Melon’s friend had.

Stuffed into a dark truck

Bumping into his fears

And placed onto the display shelf

of a fluorescent-lit supermarket

Surrounded by overwhelming noise of machinery 

Melon missed the kind sun

He longed for the quiet hidden beneath the vines.

After a few hours, Watermelon spotted his friend.

On the other display shelf next to the bananas.

Watermelon called and called

He shouted and shouted

But his voice was buried under the collisions of other human ones.

Peach next to him lamented,

“Oh, how melancholy!”

Then and there, Watermelon understood.

He understood the pronunciation melancholy.

He understood the word melancholy.

He broke down into tears,

the bittersweet droplets landing onto the plastic container

that held him so tightly in place.