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That darn Devil dances
when a lost soul drops in.
What were this soul's chances?
Did he not have thick skin?
No more backward glances.
Fallen dead on his chin!
His original plan, pre-ordained,
was to settle right in from the start.
Knowing as a babe, he came unstained,
a young do-gooder who was quite smart.
But then his decisions became strained.
Doing little things not on his chart
and time and again, as Dad explained,
get on your feet and follow your heart.
But, his willful choices were harebrained.
Then that old Devil stared
and wagged his finger come.
Smoke rose. His nostrils flared.
He yelled, "See what you've done."
You are much too fair-haired!
Go back. You're too humdrum!
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