I Cracked Myself Up (and my crockpot)

I'm a bit on the dramatic side. So when my dear soap-making crockpot succumbed to old age, (and was subjected to more soaping than it could handle) I decided to write a loving poem in memory of my crockpot.

Ode To A Crockpot

Passed down to Jim from his dear old Gram

You were once used to cook pot roast and ham

As most single guys do; he oft ran about

Jim never once used you and always ate out

Packed in a box and moved state to state

A decade went by, when we met it was fate

I had an idea to make goodies for your skin

I looked in the closet in a box you were in

I hollered and shouted, "Jim come and look it!"

"I'll make hot process soap. Simply just cook it!"

A million bars later and thousands of hours

You're cracking and peeling and losing your power

Time to retire you and make a new start

Even in crockpot heaven you'll be close to my heart