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Dillon Cain Poem
When life gives you lemons
You make lemonade
I am a banana
A beaten and bruised banana
Too ugly to sit on the marble countertop in the kitchen
Wouldn’t want the house to look poor and unkept, right?
The good news is that there are layers to the banana
The bad news is that when you peel the unappealing-looking exterior, a mushy interior meets your eye
Too soft to enjoy without leaving a bad taste in your mouth
When life gives you a banana like this
You make banana bread
I am a banana
I can’t make banana bread because I am a mere ingredient in the delicious pastry
I am the unwanted ingredient that can magically turn useful by the powers of others
I need flour to hold me together and keep me from going all over the place
I need sugar to make my softness appear sweet to others
I need baking soda to help me rise and grow out of my imperfections
And I need someone willing to put in the effort to make me into tasty banana bread
Damn, I want some banana bread right now
Who’s cookin’?
Copyright © Dillon Cain | Year Posted 2025
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Dillon Cain Poem
For he once witnessed the winter sun on the day of apricity
Psychrophilic creatures make their retreat to their subnivean brumation
Emerging pools on the ice-covered pond foretell the primaveral
Then, without warning, the gale strikes his face, shattering the sun’s affection
Sheets of frozen fluidity cache away the verdant landscape
May this apricity simply be a mirage of the imminent
We may choose to see hope in the form of the warmth of others
Only to realize that the problem was
Deeper
Than
We
Ever
Knew.
Copyright © Dillon Cain | Year Posted 2025
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Dillon Cain Poem
Her ineffable iridescence transcended my trepidations.
Her scintillating semblance was a hammer to the heart on my sleeve.
Shattering my shamefulness and unlocking my ululations,
But now I am bereaved for my lover chose to leave.
Now my concubine is chimeric and my feelings have faded.
Wash away my world but preserve the past memories in my mind.
Leave me to languish in our eternal estrangement.
Copyright © Dillon Cain | Year Posted 2025
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Dillon Cain Poem
The waves grow larger as they draw near
I just want to disappear
The white water crashes against the jagged rock shore
I really thought that there’d be more
The air is salty and the breeze sings its song
Have I been living my life all wrong?
Seawater sprays me in a fine mist
I’m worthless
I’m worthless
I’m worthless
I’m worthless
The clouds drift overhead in wisps of white against the black I would turn around now but it’s too late to backtrack
I’m already here
At the edge the pier
My intentions are sincere
So please—don’t interfere
I’ll let the waves wash me away
I hope this is the end of my dismay
I really don’t want to stop halfway
Just do it
Just do it
Just do it
Just do it
I take a deep breath as my feet give way
Copyright © Dillon Cain | Year Posted 2025
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Dillon Cain Poem
The floodwaters shimmer with opalescence in the morning sun
The torrential rain finally comes to a halt
In the stillness of it all floats the body of the banker’s son
Six feet above-ground, his grave on the asphalt
Birds stir cautiously above in the stripped-down trees
Their intertwining voices weaving a fragile song
A tattered American flag wavers in the cool breeze
Some buildings in ruins while others hold strong
As the waters retreat, remnants of a past life emerge
Scattered belongings and overturned furniture drift
While some may view the flood as a natural scourge
Others may see it as a revitalizing gift
The deep blue, empty sky holds a surreal clarity
As if having been cleansed by the storm before
Devastation occurs for the sake of posterity
New life emerges from the grasp of the great war
Wetlands breathe and fertile soil is restored
Fish of many shades explore the new habitat
Nature replenishes itself, humanity ignored
But it’s always possible to rebuild the laundromat
Shadows stretch long over the worn-down earth
Leaving a story of withering sadness behind
The grief and pain of the people entwined in rebirth
A message in the ruins, both cruel and kind
There is strange beauty in the morning after
When everything comes to a head
In the silence of the town hear Mother Nature’s laughter
O’er the skies and the trees and the flooded riverbed
Copyright © Dillon Cain | Year Posted 2025
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Dillon Cain Poem
My words cannot repair the dire state of the earth
My words cannot elicit new life and rebirth
My words cannot amend the abuse we inflict each day
But my words can still have power anyway
They can echo through the depths of your mind
Leaving the secrets of rehabilitation behind
They can sow the seeds of hope and fear
Pleading the case for this fragile sphere
My words may not turn deserts green
Nor may they cleanse the air unseen
But my words can relay the urgency of our needed care
To begin healing our home that is certainly worse for wear
They can reverberate through the veins of my city
Inspiring change and stirring up pity
For the story untold of a debilitating soul
Whose miniscule parts don’t care about the whole
Our world cannot tell us what it needs so we must assist
Every day we don’t do our part is an opportunity missed
This poem might not save the world, but at least it's a start
We might not have the antidote but at least we can have a heart
Copyright © Dillon Cain | Year Posted 2025
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Dillon Cain Poem
When do you know when life has passed you by?
When the stars dim and the sun loses shine?
When the windy breeze leaves you high and dry?
Is that when you’ve reached the end of the line?
How can you tell when a life has been lived?
When your heart begins to shiver and freeze?
When fellowship begins to fall adrift?
Is my existence worth more than a tree’s?
What is meaning in a life of despair?
When overthinking shadows my being?
When death is imminent in my affairs?
Is life meant to be lived through unseeing?
As I lay to rest under setting sun
I hope I live for once before it's done.
Copyright © Dillon Cain | Year Posted 2025
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Dillon Cain Poem
Ten unread messages and nine missed calls later
I finally texted eight friends to call you a lying traitor.
Please don’t leave me, I’m not strong enough to grieve
Our seven birthdays together or the six promises that you would never leave.
You bought your ticket with a five then took my heart away for free.
My watch struck four, but you had disappeared by three.
As the hours went on, I stared fixedly ahead at the sun
And slowly lost sight of you while two sets of footprints became one.
Copyright © Dillon Cain | Year Posted 2025
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Dillon Cain Poem
Sticks and stones may break my bones
It’s easy to be hurt when you’re alone
My heart of glass profusely bleeds
I wish my poker face was hard to read
My sign reads “Fragile: Handle With Care”
It repels new friends and attracts blank stares
Don’t get too close or I’ll get hurt
My insecurities keep me distant and alert
I used to wear my heart on my sleeve
They would tell me it was a blessing but then would always leave
So I guess I’ll see you when the party’s over
My mind is quaking so I’m taking cover
My cheeks turn red, and tears flood my eyes
I can’t be normal for once, can I?
I’m a brittle branch on a windy night
I’ll be blown away and out of sight
So words can never hurt me.
Copyright © Dillon Cain | Year Posted 2025
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Dillon Cain Poem
The extermination of my self-identity
comes easy when taken from the tongue.
Words hanging in the balance,
breathe in the air in which they are strung.
Wrap tightly around my neck,
wringing the air out of my lungs.
Infestation of the mind and of
a heart so fractured yet so young.
Carried deeper into a world of hate,
so I let go of the hand that I once clung.
WE ARE NEVER ENOUGH UNTIL THEY SAY WE ARE ENOUGH.
WE ARE NEVER ENOUGH UNTIL THEY SAY WE ARE
WE ARE NEVER ENOUGH UNTIL THEY SAY WE
WE ARE NEVER ENOUGH UNTIL THEY SAY
WE ARE NEVER ENOUGH UNTIL THEY
WE ARE NEVER ENOUGH UNTIL
WE ARE NEVER ENOUGH.
Copyright © Dillon Cain | Year Posted 2025
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