Jack of Spades
By John Herlihy

I am no Jack of Spades;
I live quietly in the shade.
Nothing in life has come easy,
Although I seldom feel queasy.
Only routine events just happen,
As if life itself were just laughin’.
Others become rich and famous,
But I feel like such an ignoramus.

Oh, to be for once the Jack of Spades,
A gal on my arm and sportin’ shades.
Cool shades that reflected the world,
Accepting all the acclaim at me hurled.
Piles of money spilling from my pocket,
My blue eyes bulging out of their socket.
A pin-striped suit hanging in slim folds;
The suit wears the man trying to be bold.

I tried that suit once, but hated the feel;
It just wasn’t me and it didn’t seem real.
In fact, it felt a little tight at the edges;
Everyone expected me to make pledges.
As if to do wonders, a true Jack of Spades,
The king of men and master of all trades.
But the reality was a thing quite otherwise;
I felt shy silence and only desired to be wise.

If so inclined, we can pretend to be others;
We can stroll about and have our druthers.
If need be the suit itself can make the man,
An attitude that can serve one’s life span.
But I have preferred to take my own road,
To be true to my nature, if only but a toad.
The Jack of Spades may live on Easy Street;
I live in a room I have turned into a suite.