Twenty-three

Twenty-three years ago, two starry-eyed kids, promised they would love forever.
But "forever" has a way of breaking promises when love is slowly severed.


It was only twelve short months ago, we both wore masks on that anniversary day.
You were secretly grieving, knowing this would be our final charade.
And I was wistfully wondering what had gone wrong over these many years.
Why was this day not special, just another calendar date it was clear.


We went through the motions, went out to dinner, and that night even made love.
Then each of us both went back to our sad little worlds, and the pain was quickly shoved.
For there were no answers to this dilemma of ours, of a marriage gone so wrong.
We lived a sad tale of two starry-eyed kids, who had lost their sweet love song.


But this anniversary day, May 16th, 2003, is different from all the rest.
This day is a symbol of hope, with a second chance we've been blest.
No more charades, no more secrets, for our love through the fire's been reborn.
This love will last forever, this is our vow that today will reverently be sworn.


Twenty-three years ago, two starry-eyed kids promised they would love forever.
And forever has a way of keeping promises, when one makes it their main endeavor.
For love does not just happen, it takes hard work for a marriage to forever stay.
And because of that fact, this is what we solemnly promise, on this our wedding day.