The sin of greed

Methinks I'm in need of a snack
Peanut butter sandwich is just dandy.
I cross the kitchen to open the cupboard.
There is the bread, there is the peanut butter
I reach for it, then stop and swivel my eyes
I spy chocolate on the horizon.
I love chocolate.
On the top, corner peeking cheekily over the edge
Oh sweet, sweet confection!
You are the apple of my eye!
How dare you tease me, swinging above where my arms cannot reach!
I stretch, stretch, stretch until I can stretch no more.
Finally I give up and I reach for the stool.
The tottery, bandy-legged, helpful stool.
I step up onto it. It creaks under my weight.
I reach for the chocolate but still it's out of reach.
I go on tiptoes and the chocolate chuckles.
It knows that I, driven mad with hunger, will apply just too much pressure on the poor, loyal stool
And I will fall and break my back.
As I do.
The last thing I see before I pass out with pain
Is the chocolate, still swinging noncholantly above my head
Laughing and laughing as if for eternity
I hate chocolate.