A Day Misplaced

Today slipped through my weary hands,  

Like grains of sand in time's vast strands.  

The hours passed, a fleeting race,  

Yet left no mark, no trace, no grace.  

I sat in silence, thoughts askew,  

A list of dreams I never drew.  

The weight of “should have” pressed my chest,  

While purpose wandered, seeking rest.  

But even in this hollow haze,  

The sun still gifted gentle rays.  

For every day, though lost, it seems,  

Is fertile soil for new-born dreams.  

So, let the lesson linger near,  

To shape tomorrow, bright and clear.  

A wasted day is not the end,  

But just a chance to start again.