Dear Grandma's Ashes...What Can Possibly Go Wrong Poem by Shaun Cronick

Returning home with grandma's ashes,
Which'll take me all daylong.
Though my destination is far,
What can possibly go wrong.

Butterfingers said the priest,
Earlier as he handed me her urn.
You'll have to sweep her up,
For she's now not my concern.

Sorry about that dear grandma,
Now I need to catch that train.
We will make it home safely,
Unless I do some crazy cocaine.

Oh dear God I need a quick fix,
A quick snort in the toilet gents.
I'll take her urn with me,
Don't want to lose its contents.

Real sorry about this grandma,
On the crapper she is now placed.
As I then pull out my cocaine,
Looking forward to getting shit-faced.

Suddenly the train violently jolts,
Reeling, rocking and then rolling.
And poor, dusty, dear grandma,
Down the lavatory starts pouring.

I try to grab her precious urn,
But its simply not to be my day.
Jolted I press the flush button,
As grandma is sadly flushed away.

The moral of this story is simple,
Never ever do cocaine on a train.
For grandma's ashes to arrive safely,
It's less hassle to travel by plane.