A burnt out, empty matchbox

Nothing to spark a light

No light to ignite the fire

A box of matches, without matches.

A box

Cardboard sides & cardboard slide

Worn striker, no longer rough, nor abrasive

No longer does it have the chemical it once needed

Red phosphorus has eroded

Friction but a ghost

Lingering strike marks like old scars on a bull

Branding bold, perhaps stale, showcased on face

Its only source of light

Its only source of hope

The matchbox is a ghost

Empty matchbox