unfinished thoughts

There's a hole in the sky right above my bed
Where the heavens do cry for the dreams that are dead
In the room hangs a shelf occupied with antiques
Where the dust makes it's way as it silently creeps
Like the dreams that have passed for which the sky weeps
Of words never spoken, and lips never kissed
Of promises broken, and untaken risks
Like a piece of paper crumpled up in a fist
Holding unfinished thoughts that will never be missed