You stand at the Corner, on South Bay Street,
Your hair is in tassels, and you are complete.
Your hands are shoved in your, blue, jean pockets,
You begin to walk too Oneto Special Lockets.
I follow behind, keeping a couple yards space,
Thats when you wander into that brilliant place.
I admire from outside, watching you gaze upon Lockets,
You pick one up, taking your hands from your pockets.
I watch you, admire you, I see you buy it,
Then you walk out the door, and you wrap it, and tie it.
You smile to yourself, and you look up at me.
My heart melts, you could proberly see.
Then you open your mouth, and you begin to speak,
"What is it that you seek?"
I smile sweetly, and walk over to you.
Then we have a laugh, that's what you usually do.
At the end of the day, we sit on the pier.
You hand me the Locket, "This is for you, my dear".
32 years later, I sit in my chair.
I remember you here, I push back my hair.
I touch my neck, my Locket is there.
The heart shaped Silver had gone no-where.