Master, speak for thy servant hears
The assigned tasks taken to the end
Back in time, long ago, I do not know
When it began and what history has to say
On this seemingly low office of mine
Addressed often as aide or servant
Yet, the high and mighty seek to secure
Their positions with a plea to serve

With modest tag to power, titles changed
To chief or master servant, not otherwise
From chief executive, commander in chief
Or number one citizen, His Excellency
It is the beauty of my simple status
The heart to do my master’s biding
The endurance and patience required
They long for the art, where I am the master

My everyday chores, to cook and clean
Answer door bells, run on errands
And sometimes do some security jobs
Looked down upon as a trade for slaves
Yet, you see people going to the polls
Faces of pretenders hungry for power
To seek that which is rightfully my work
To serve the people, this household of mine