I run this Pokemon club at my school. They all get to bring their cards in on Mondays and at lunchtime I sit there while they trade. It’s like Wall Street. I watch them all do their deals and bargain and show off their best cards in their folders. I sit by and I know nothing, so I listened to what they were saying and made it into this poem.

Hope you like it.

Trading

On the floor, from wall to door,

The noise of commerce, of more, more, more.

“I’ll trade, will you trade? What did you say?”

“Ah yeah, sick.”            “Koraidon!”            “Oh my day!”

“Show me, show me!”            “What have you got?”

“I’ve got jumbos, they’re worth a lot.”

“Eevee,”        “Blaziken V,”       “Secret rare,”

“I got it from that kid. Her over there,”

“She’s got a binder,”               “He’s got Lucario,”

“It’s in the back.”           “Ask, I’ll show.”

“A gold as well; trade for a gold.”

“It’s not worth enough if it’s got a big fold.”

“What’s it worth?”       “They’re real, not fakes!”

Negotiation is what it takes.

“You can tell by the colour.”      “It’s a darker blue.”     

“Will you trade for that?”    “Yeah, mate, will do.”

“All of my cards, no, no, no.”

“More attack damage,”          “I know you know.”

“It’s first edition, Spanish too.”

“A Charizard VMax for a big Pikachu,”

Wander and talk, talk and wander

Looking for deals, no time to ponder

Is it a deal, is it fair, who knows?

They buy and they sell until the close.

Me on the sidelines, I don’t know this stuff.

I can’t tell a Salazzle from a Jigglypuff.

Thanks for reading,

Richard