Ode to the Infinite Superiority of the Toaster Oven

I wrote this poem for all those people who lovingly slice their bagel in half, then put it in the toaster and depress the lever, and, ten minutes later, wondering what on earth is taking their food so long to toast, rush to the toaster and realize that while inserting their bagel, they failed to notice that the dial was pointed all the way to the right, and so despairingly wrench the lever upward in a last halfhearted attempt to save the bagel, but see that it's plainly too late, as the bagel looks like an atomic bomb has been dropped upon it.
And so, without further ado...

It is quite a modest appliance
But I find it consistently lacks
The plain toaster's stubborn defiance
(It toasts everything 'til it's black.)
You can use it to toast to perfection
Or whip up a personal pizza.
You'll find that with every confection,
Its stark wonderfulness simply treats ya.
This poor toaster oven's been loved well
(It's no longer shiny or new.)
But when my food's done, the small loud bell
Rings out, still quite strong and true.