It rang signaling it was done

It had been mistakenly set up high

Thought it would somehow recognize its settings

And make a move to reset

But pop goes the toaster

And all was lost with no finespun

As the toast was burnt to a crisp and a cry

No semblance of its former self in this bloodletting

No appetite to whet

But pop goes the toaster

The death knell

Hot to touch

Ashy to the tongue

Done and done