The Devil

The devil calls for angels.

The devil calls for thieves.

He calls when summer sun is hot

And brings his autumn leaves.

He wants the pure of heart.

He wants the sharp of mind.

He wants the lovely and the strange-

He won't leave you behind.

The devil called for Johnny

Saying, "Son, now where are you?"

The devil called for Jessica,

Sophie and Margaret too.

And then one day I heard the call,

My ears rent black and blue.

The devil called for me that day

When I was far from you.

A/N: My friend Summer asked me to write her a poem she could use on her new site for the home page, and lo and behold I have, amazingly enough, finished on time. So there you are Summer and now you owe me.