Walking alone along the street,
He wears the headphones like a crown.
Too proud; he doesn't smile to greet
Any chance soul he happens to meet.

His heart skips a beat; that song -
A key to memories from an era bygone.
He takes out his phone, turns it on,
Wishing for a message or a missed call;
Nope, no such luck...no luck at all.

No metaphors required, its as clear as day
He has to do this, there's no other way,
Lost in translation, he can't find
Words to speak out his mind.
Her goodbye is still fresh in his memory,
His goodbye fresher still in his mom's.

He wears his crown with pride,
And keeps walking with a nervous strides.