Cross by the side of the road,
He was on a motorcycle ride.
Don't know who died just how.
Still breaks me up inside.
My neighbor's grown daughter died.
I never met the girl, barely know the
mother.
She has a cross in her front yard.
She lives on the corner.
Didn't really affect me when I heard
the news,
Until I saw the cross in their front
yard
Driving out of the subdivision today.
Made me think of my grown daughter.
She has a daughter of her own,
Just like my neighbor's girl.
I'd be raising my granddaughter,
Just like this neighbor mother.
I love this little princess dearly,
But there would be great loss
If something happened to my girl,
And that was my wood cross.
By: Paula Dean Nevison
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