I use the poem "Out, Out" by Robert Frost with the play Macbeth. It has a specific connection to the comment that Macbeth makes regarding life being like a candle.
"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing."
We talk about the brevity of life and how that affects our daily actions. In "Out, Out" a young boy dies at the hands of a machine, and he is an innocent. In Macbeth, in no way to we consider Macbeth "innocent." However, no matter if we are young, old, innocent or guilt, death finds us all, and people will continue on with their lives after we are gone.