Frozen

A poem of self inflicted disappointment by the self titled Master of the Multiverse

It was a dark winter's evening, 

The cold winds sang of mourning,

For a joy had been denied,

The sorrow of a grim fate implied,

By the lack of a scent,

My soul so rent,

I cried for the mercy of the furnace,

But twas in vain I sought grace,

In a beast who had obeyed my very will,

For the pizza was frozen, still.