The hand of death struck without warning,
Leaving her family and friends in mourning.
She was instantly killed by an oncoming car,
While crossing the road from her home not far.

Lynn was nineteen and a future bride,
She left behind Michael who silently cried.
She was laid to rest on the fourteenth of September,
Near realtives of old she had hardly remembered.

Her grave was cold and she felt alone,
Until Micheal, in tears, knelt by her stone.
And from where she lay, love could be felt,
For there was warmth from where he knelt.