I dwell in a group of fifty-two,
We are all unique in our special way,
Yet we still share something common,
The game we play.

Some of us are kings and queens,
But the rest of us are not ordinary by any means.
We each have a specific role and purpose,
Without this the entire group would be worthless.
We set out and search for that one member who is lost,
Because they are irreplaceable, and we could not cover the cost.

We collaborate to make a hand,
Whenever we are thrown we always land.
We get shuffled, cut, and bent,
But we remain resilient.

Jack is one of the more popular names,
And it seems that we are all portraits on miniature picture frames.
Several of us Ace everything we do,
Some have the gift of love, it starts in the heart.
Many have to work in the garden using their spades,
And there is a select few who get to go to clubs,
And wear all their diamonds.