It sat there, dumb and calm,
a lump the size of hope,
nestled in its box, breathing holes—
a joke with instructions on care.
This stone, this silent being, unloved
before, was now cradled in hands,
eyes squinting at smooth gray,
searching for its undeniable charm.
Children whispered dreams to it,
adults smirked and laughed aloud,
the absurdity a comfort, cheap
and clean, no bark, no bite.
The world held it close, smiling
at its stillness, its lack of hunger,
no leash or litter, just weight,
the perfect mirror of empty.