I always knew my days were numbered. I never realized how few there were. I used to live my life peacefully, nothing more than a tabletop decoration who would light up the room every once and while. But now? I have to be the light of the party every day because you need a little light to cheer you up every single rainy day. Well listen here buddy, I used to be okay cheering you up every so often when you needed a pick me up, but I’ve got only so many days left to burn. My wick is all burnt up and there is no more wax to melt. I am all used up and there are no more days left for me. I know you don’t care. How could you? Your ignorance of how you have turned every rainy day into a slaughter for me and my friends is so clear one doesn’t need light to see it. We are just a flame that you use to see if hope is still in her box. I’ll provide you some last hope, even though mine is nonexistent. I’m just waiting for you to toss me out and replace me once I offer you my last flicker of hope.