Written in a single line, "over" is about putting something off. The speaker repeats "one day" as if saying it twice might make it more believable, then closes the door on it with "just not today." The thing being postponed is never named, and that gap is what makes the poem work. It could be a decision, a confession, a journey, or a goodbye. We're left to fill it in with whatever we ourselves keep delaying.
The speaker seems caught between wanting and avoiding. There's hope in "one day," but also a weary kind of excuse, the sort of thing a person says to themselves out of habit. The tone is quiet and a little sad, with a hint of dry honesty about how easy it is to hold onto a future you never act on. The title, "over," adds a twist: it might mean the day is finished, or that the chance itself is slipping away. The short length leaves a lingering, unsettled feeling.