The Blue Candle Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

It was a hopeless little flame.
The blue seven day candle was on its last legs.
So was my sanity.

The shopkeeper had bled me dry
With his demands for longer hours
Paychecks bouncing
And many other indignities.
I lit a candle in the back
So he couldn't see it.
Its flame was so small
To see it burn seemed hopeless.
I had used my last match, anyway.

After hours of boring waiting
Speckled with rude customers
I went to the back
Just for a private moment.

Against hope I looked into the candle.
There was a tiny flame,
So tiny you could hardly see it.
Had it burned like this for hours?
On that hopeless attempt to light it
With my last, shaky match?

I tendered my resignation the next day.