A poem for a lost diamond

Look at me then,

All eyes on my back.

I used to make magic

I used to make money.

A trick for a smile,

A thrill for a silver.

Look at me now,

All eyes on my face.

I’m no King nor Ace,

No bluff, no flush.

I don’t mean much,

far from my flock.

Yet, should I be paired to have value?

I still fit in their hands,

I still fit in their minds.

And they’ll be cutting more diamonds

from my lonely nines.