Part

There are times when i wish i can pen down all the thoughts. 

But when the time comes, my fingers are motionless. 

The heart hardened.

The mind freezes. 

I have lost but to myself. 

They used to flow. 

Words. Poems. Songs. 

But that part of me; is nowhere to be found?

Left behind; or hidden. 

Or killed by the Growth disease. 

I need to begin my search. 

And i won't stop till i find it again...