Stuck Choices

In the glow of the vending machine’s glare,

my quarters clink like chimes in frustration,

each selection a promise, yet they betray,

sticky fingers grip for something just out of reach,

a bag of chips, my solace caught, just stuck,

pleading to deliver, but unable to fulfill.

I shake it gently, coax it like a wish,

but the snacks refuse to budge, hollow in their glass,

a reminder of the comforts we chase,

yet seldom find, each choice a ghost,

in this cycle of craving, I linger in despair,

frustrated hopes trapped behind plastic and light.