A poem half made
is like bread still dough
like a bed unmade
like half a mo
A poem half done
is like a shade of day
with half the sun
A kiss, an inch away
A poem undone
Is a four moon phase
a count to one
a ‘mil’ out of place
A poem half finished
is like a tin of spinach
still unopened
and an expired usage
A poem not a

It’s the end of the world, as we know it
So hurry, hold me close and we can slow it

Beneath a burning sky, lets hold the other
Forget the fights and heartaches, my lover

Meet me down that alley, where we first met
where the fire hasn’t spread there yet

Let us speak the things that remain unsaid
and sit our hearts down, inside our head

Can I call you ‘my wife’, before the end?
There may not be a morrow, but we can pretend

Let’s find a church before they’re burned to the ground
Make our vows before the sky falls down

Take my hand and run through the streets
Sing our love before the chaos proceeds

Play the tune that we’ll always remember
dance beneath a red moon, now or never

The world may think we're a little mad
yet, it’s the best of days we’ve ever had

You and I, my love, are forever
it’s not over till we’re over