Servants of the egophile

 We prepared tomorrow's meal for low pay
without any food on tables in our homes today
Adversity was the routine, hardness accepted
We watched food get wasted and go foul
 as our stomachs ached and growled

We were just the naive kitchen staff saps
obeying the house manager hoping for scraps
For pay, good conditions, but it was tough 
Through gritted teeth still able to laugh

Cheerily chattering in the manager's absence
Joy even in the face of the situation
I and the other two emaciated servants
Able to cook clean and ingratiate

The manager arrived, we bowed heads and feigned smiles
Staff were often laid off, he knew we knew underneath
He straightened that knowing grin his face unleashed
his scornful caustic clandestine egophile