My Very Soul

I'm trapped here, I don't why,

Is it for all my sins, I don't why,

Did I kill someone? Was I arrested as a spy?

I'm stuck on island, here forever,

Should I give up? I say never!

But given my choice, my options are narrow,

Why can't I fly out of here, liked a blasted Sparrow?

But here's the question, that's very dear,

I'm here alone, but who else is here?

This question in mind, I've got to know,

But here's my answer, so here it goes,

I choose my trading cards, that's what!

No phone, no food, not even a companion mutt,

You see, my choice is very old, 

'Cause there cards embody my very soul,

Mom said "no", Dad said "why",

But to me these responses wouldn't fly,

The kids at school thought I was dumb, But I thought cards were lots of fun,

"Clear Wing", "Rebellion", "Odd-Eyes", that's the cards names,

I always use them to play card games,

So that's my choice, my very answer,

If were stuck on an island of disaster, I'm the fool, I'm no master,

All alone, with no one else,

But choose one thing, that's the goal,

I pick my cards, because they're my very soul!

This poem is about: 
Me

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