The day

Tomorrow I say.
Tomorrow is the day.
The day I pull my warm red sleigh.
To the one I admire.
The one that lit the fire.
I fall asleep
I wake up tomorrow
But that warmth decides to stay
stay in hiding all day

How I urge it to follow in front
It just stays.
behind me and plays.
mockingly.
At least I'm chin-up
But its punches won't let up.

It's almost as if it hates me
Alone a fearless army
around her a water stuck flea.
It knows that her no during my confession
would bury me in depression.