My face is sore from smiling
My heart is beating as though i just ran a hundred yard dash
but i am still smilling
Trying to stand tall, waiting.
And then the music sores,
the back door swings open,
I catch a glimpse of white then i begin to tremble.
My bride just walked into view.
My heart aint fickle, i am committed.
I do not wish for the eloquence of Maya Angelou but my brokenness.