The Deck Of Cards Poem by horsie luver94

The Deck Of Cards

Rating: 5.0


People are like playing cards
Let’s see who wins the game
It’s a game of chance
A game of strategy
A game of life.

First the 2’s, the 3’s, the 4’s the 5’s,
All the number cards
Constant, never-changing
The same throughout the game.
Outnumbering the other cards
34 to 18
Played and taunted
The most often
The most common cards
Yet always less in value
Than the rest.
The bottom of the deck
The unlucky ones
Or so it seems.

Then come the face cards
The rulers, the monarchs
The Jacks, the Queens, the Kings.
They rule atop their thrones
From the top of the deck
Great in value
All decked out
From top to bottom
Always present
No matter where you look.
The uppity, superficial cards
Who put on their crowns, their jewels, their airs
Who put on a show.

Then there are the aces.
The pretenders
The fakers
Never consistent
Their position
Both above the highest-ranking royalty
And below the lowest number.
Trying to seem
Like they’re the best,
The real ones on top of the game
But in reality
They’re the worst card there is
Acting totally and completely low
Low in value
Even more than the humble
Number cards.

Lastly the jokers
The envious ones.
Laughing, flighty, mocking,
Using cruel humor
To bring everyone else down.
Poke fun at lesser cards
To make themselves feel better.
When really,
They actually wish so much to be
Like the number cards.
With no need to prove themselves.

Cuz with number cards,
What you see is what you get.
No airs, no fakery,
No cruelty, no lies, no judging.
In the end, they’re who
All the other cards want to be
The face cards,
The aces,
The jokers.
The materialistic,
The pretenders,
The spiteful.

So even though
They’re at the bottom of the deck.
They look like the lowest of the low
The number cards are in fact
The lucky ones.
The actual best, the true of heart
The pure, faithful, genuine cards.
They deserve more
They deserve better.
Better treatment
To not just be used
To be played then tossed aside
Scorned, and hurt.
But appreciated, recognized, loved
For what they are
Their integrity, their character.

The game of life
May start out badly,
The number cards at the bottom,
The others on top.
But when the game is up
All over and done.
The number cards
Have truly won.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Mary Gordley 28 January 2008

A very unique device used for both the poetic inspiration and as a means of analyzing humanity. Well done. Thanks.

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Tracy Horner 27 January 2008

I find this analogy fascinating. It seems the poet has a very unique understanding. Thank you. Trace

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