My Own Devil

My devil wears old tennis shoes

And faded graphic t-shirts

His hair his wavy and always mussed

Jeans always faded and well-worn

My devil taps out new rhythms

Every night onto my tattered soul

Never the same beat twice

His being the embodiment of music

My devil is too smart for his own good

Always seeing more than meets the eye

Noticing absolutely everything

And storing away the information

My devil is really an angel

The sweetest soul I’ve ever met

My soul is his, but my body another’s

And I am trapped in my wickedness

Author's Note

I apologize for the roughness of this piece as well, this is another piece I wrote on the way to work.

Reviews

[iamshadowine]

i really like it! "My devil is really an angel"; sounds so good and has such a lovely meaning!
keep writing :D

[streetrose]

Thank youbfir reading and for your kind words

[H.L. Cerveise]

I like it very much. It shows a dilemma of a mind/spirit/body between two minds/spirits/bodies. I also like how you have used devil and an angel to describe him. I believe we all have both in us and always will.

Well done.