It’s not going to happen today

It’s not going to happen, buddy. There’s no honey left in the pot or hardly a sniff of its sweetness. You gave it the best that you got.
It’s not going to happen, dearest. There’s not enough blue in the sky. The sun burned it brown, it crumbled to the ground, and left us bone dry.
What if something else were to matter? If you rambled away for a while. Perhaps then you’d know where to turn to discover what passes for style.
So it’s not going to happen today, pal. Did you really expect that it would? Chalk it up to the heat if you have to. Toss down the pen and call it good.