The Crystal Rock

Sitting forgotten, all alone.
With the white background, the perfect picture.
Never shown to friends,
Or flashed its inner crystal.
From the magic mirror shop, the place for souvenirs,
Lying among similar rocks, all begging to be sold.
When it caught my eye,
Everyone thought,
It was fragile like glass.
I guess it was once, once upon a time,
It was bound to have a fairy-tale ending.
It used to be handled with care, softly talked to,
The glittering stone glued to my ear.
I guess I was hoping she would respond,
And do the same thing.
But not all stories have the coveted mythical ending of life.
The rock now is now gone,
Dead, goodbye