Unfinished

You and me,
are an unfinished symphony.
(a bruised knee,
a spot weak,
tap and it falls,
a half turned key)


A page torn,
from the end of a book
leaving you teetering,
hanging on a hook.

Cause no one knows what happens in the end
and it feels like an arm you've lent.
Cause you can't really give it, but can miss it too
and it slowly but surely, turns blue