Extemporaneous Poem

I came up with this poem in response to a note I received on my page.

Ah, the noble vending machine. From which for an decade hence I have been spurned without sustenance. My throat parched. My taste buds tingling. While mockerous candies abound. How much fun it used to be to insert and exsert. How beautiful the wrapper. Now, I'm left with a lone Youtube diet expert. And a lowly vegetable platter.