A part of me is missing,
a part that seems to hate,
a part that seems to wait
to watch my doomed fate.

A part of me is missing,
a part in which I care,
a part in which I dare,
to try to be more fair.

This part of me is missing,
a part that seems alone,
a part that hates it’s home,
and always wants to roam.

This part of me is missing,
a part that makes me cry,
a part that makes me sigh,
I’m always asking “why”?

This part of me that’s missing,
is holding my heart at bay,
it does it every day,
in many different ways.

This part of me that’s missing,
is slowly fading out,
has given me feelings of doubt,
Is this what life’s about?