Drowsy Letter

I had wanted it to be a solemn day,

For I was to speak not one word out of turn,

But it did not happen that way,

No, plans always burn,

A drowsy way it was to stay,

Days of which I had loved, I cannot love again,

Days where I wished it may,

Be just another solemn day,

Is thinking so a sin?

I did not speak much, as I had hoped,

But I did not keep till the end,

The ends are always too hard to cope,

Always to broken to mend,

Maybe tomorrow will be better,

And may you never get this letter,

For it will never send.