To a toaster

· by joe · Read in about 1 min · (164 Words)

O Toaster! What the hell with thee is wrong?

Thy kind hath served my kind for decades long.

A bond hath formed between two nations great,

That decades bond, though, weareth thin of late.

Oh, toaster. This is what I want of thee:

I feed thee bread, thou feedest toast to me.

From time to time I empty out thy tray.

And for thy part, thou toasteth every day.

Oh toaster, wherefore doth thou taunt me so?

How hard it is to toast I’ll never know.

Thy forebears issued toast when they were fed.

Unlike thy forebears thou destroyest bread.

Oh toaster, look here, where’s your self-control?

I did not ask for bread as black as coal.

I’m sure I set your timer properly

to two point five, but this is clearly three.

Oh toaster, what is this upon my plate?

Thou offered up thy contents far too late.

My friend, your tragic destiny befell:

You did your job not wisely but too well.

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