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