Satan and the Nice Guy

So many stories to every face,
Hard enough to keep them straight.
But, with two tales of marriage and divorce,
People get confused, of course.

So I forgo the names, to keep things clear
And tell tales of heartbreak from tales of fear.
For them to protect, and myself indemnify,
I call them Satan and the Nice Guy.

Satan hails from Hell City itself;
Feeds on others and pure vitriol expels,
Gives kittens concussions and, one can’t deny,
Makes those in his lair wish only to die.

The other, to insure stories aren’t confused,
I call Nice Guy -with him I was not abused.
With him I was politely disliked and ignored,
My love cordially judged, heart quietly gored.

Without names, no more pain can they give;
Reduced to shadows of past deaths I lived.
For how clumsily I flailed, in love’s death throws,
Let my name be The Fool, but that part you know.

By titles, they’re safe from my embittered heart,
And you, saved the trouble of telling them apart.
And now you’ve a poem, in case you wondered why
I call them Satan and the Nice Guy.