Here is the thing about lamps. When dark falls abrupt, like night falling over Africa, people seek out lamps, flooding onto its edges like their lives depend on it. Which it usually does, for who likes the deepness of a moonless night? Who wouldn't then prefer the glow of a lamp?
Here is the thing about people then. After the night is pushed over by the first rays of the morning sun, when spring winds rise up to hug the cherry trees, the lamps are put out. Who needs a lamp when you can hold the sun within your outstretched arms?
Perhaps to wait for people upon whom night falls like in Africa is the lot of the lamp.