Satan held a fire sale, everything reduced,

I looked around his chattels with a grin,

Bargains everywhere, and lots of things that I could use,

At prices never to repeat again.

Grabbing fame and wealth, I found a box of apathy,

To help me hoard my riches without thought,

Cans of no regrets and two small flasks of ecstasy,

A bottle full of power-flavored port.

“Clever buying” Satan said, and parceled up my goods,

“You now can finally achieve your goal,

Lucky you stopped by, because it’s Special Saturday,”

And then he rang the total up: “Your soul.”

Docket signed, I headed home, impatient to unwrap,

My diabolic purchases in hand,

There upon the side walk was a wallet full of cash,

I snatched it up and thought how life was grand.

Blinking light showed message waiting, agent’s voice I heard:

“The casting chief wants you to be the star,”

Opening the port I poured and lifted up my glass,

And toasted Satan for his grand bazaar.

Everything went smoothly and I soon became a hit,

Adoring fans would mob me everywhere,

Fame and Fortune was my lot, but something wasn’t right,

I looked around the world – and didn’t care.

Famine, need and heartache was the nightly TV news,

I watched it blankly, nothing there to feel,

Happiness was when I picked up oscar number ten,

I laughed and signed another megadeal.

Now I lie here contemplating, life almost complete,

I hear the Devil calling me to hell,

Legacy from me: these words inscribed upon my stone:

“Succeed, but always own your soul as well.”