Incompleteness will be the death of you,
How will it kill me,
When doors don't fully shut?
Or when I'm disturbed before finishing a-
Or when I end a song prematurely?
But then
You think of your solitude,
You think of all the un-taken chances,
You think of how you have nothing going for you,
And you realise,
There's two meanings to incomplete.
One day,
You sat and spoke of your future.
One day,
You planned the marriage.
One day,
You swore your life to each other.
But one day,
You noticed more arguments.
One day,
Not all his "bye's" were followed by "I love you's."
One day,
Kisses became a mandatory gesture.
But then one day,
Before you knew it,
You were alone.
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