Light bulbs are totally awesome.
As a wave of trash lands upon me,
I wonder,
not for the first time,
why you left me.
Was I not good enough;
was that why you left me?
I shone like a burning star;
I was perfect.
I never messed up -
never once did I falter.
But you abandoned me,
left me to rot in this living hell.
Broken.
Shattered.
Alone.
That's what I am now.
I didn't do anything wrong, did I?
Was I not good enough
for you?
Of course not.
You were always wanting the
newest things, the coolest items.
I was too old, then.
Old and boring.
It's hard, you know,
being like us.
We have a few months to shine our brightest,
then we burn out,
lose our importance.
Nobody wants one of us,
burnt out.
There are others like me here.
Others with their own stories.
Stories far more tragic
than mine.
There are others that are mangled
beyond recognition;
because their owners didn't care enough
to keep them safe.
Now they're here,
reminisncing about their past.
We're overlooked.
Ignored.
Our role
is forgotten
so easily.
If we disappeared,
you would all be lost.
Darkness would descend.
No hope for a brighter future.
You would be
helpless
without us.
How come you
throw us away?
Next to me, a dented toaster shakes off a banana peel.
"Light bulb," it says in a tone
that makes me doubtful of its sanity.
"Light bulb," it repeats, giggling, sending
a wave of crumbs everywhere.
Light bulbs.
The most overlooked object
in the world.
It's hard being us,
you know.