Before March ninetieth, at eleven fifty nine,
Three friends, Nancy, Jill, and Chelsea were all perfectly fine,
They’d returned from Vegas, earlier that day,
The wrong place, the wrong time, they were not home to stay,
As driving home from coffee, there was danger on the road,
Kicked out of three bars, was a man in drunken mode,
Accelerating on the pedal, with all of his might,
He sped quickly, right through that red light,
Not knowing what had hit them, Nancy and Jill passed away,
For a short five hours later, Chelsea here to stay,
By six am that morning, all the girls were gone,
Each family awoke to the police on their lawn,
Suspicious at what happened, each family cracked their door,
Only to be hit with the news, that their little girls were no more,
A little girl heard the words that were spoken,
And fell to her knees to cry, her tender heart broken,
“ Your cousin is gone,” were the hardest words by far,
Sweet Jill no more, because one selfish man got into his car,
At the young age of eight, that little girl had lost her role model,
All because one selfish man was too high on the bottle,
That night as that little girl toss in her bed,
She can’t get the thought of her cousin Jill out of her head,
Her heart beat with sadness, and anger, at a rapid pace,
While tears of regret ran down her face,
The hardest thing that family found,
Was watching the coffin sink into the ground,
What happened to the drunken man you say?
For a fourteen short years, he is in jail to stay,
March ninetieth, at eleven fifty nine,
Is a tragic time of memory, because that role model was mine,
The use of alcohol limits the potential of today’s youth because,
Of all the horrific, and devastating things that it does,
At age nineteen, their lives beginning to thrive,
In loving memory, please don’t drink and drive…