Poor Satan sonnet

What would it be like to be the devil, everyone mad at you on every level

Angels that revel up in the sky telling you, you need not apply

Those that live in the middle saying your preparing us for the griddle

While those that dwell below, cuss you for the heat of hell's overflow

As a villain, rumor said God you betrayed, now of you everyone is afraid 

Painted you red put horns on your head, blamed you for things you never said

Gave you hands with claws and foot of a goat, how are you to dance or on your violin play a note

Then they pinned on a tail, oh by the way, why are you and God both male?

What ever they do they blame it on you, electing Trump to the bird flu

Without endorsement your picture on a can, or poster of the Shah of Iran

Getting no residuals from movies made only curses from those that for a ticket paid 

You got a bad break seen as a snake, your nature friends burnt at the stake

 I think it's all part of a conspiracy plan and suggest you get a new publicity man

How can you not be a fan of a race ran by an underdog chained to a garbage can