Cheese and Onion Crisps

Don't know what to say about this poem.

Potato crisps in a green and gold packet.
Words tell they are "Cheese & Onion,
Foil Packed for Extra Freshness."
Shiny green Bag, smooth and cool,
Crackles like footsteps breaking thin ice.

Bag opens with reluctant rip.
Air escapes with excited pop.
On the tongue the tang of artificial onion
Excites saliva, tickles eyes
With the smell of salt and chemical flavours.

Bag screams its suprised alarm
With every crisp that's stolen from it.
No covert operation, this,
Every crunch cries "Crisp Eater"
As lips tingle, tongue seeking more tang.

Shiny mouth of empty Bag smiles.
It has given up all that it had.
Bag has been pillaged, robbed, defiled,
But still retains its crumbly memories
Of salt, chemical flavours, and artificial onion.