Why do you care if I'm a maid
Making your bed everyday
As long as your sheets are all pluffy
And your floor is clean and spiffy
Why do you care if I am old
Bones rickety, fragile and cold
With face wrinkled and loose
Hand tremors and all
Why really care if I'm poor
With no roof and no food
Begging alms in those roads
Streets of filth and rats full
You must care for I'm God sent
To test your character and will
To show our only God up there
What you're made up inside "here"
"Here" means your inner heart
That red organ of true love
For if you treat me just right
God will smile wide and bright
Be thankful and be smart
Better not you but us?
But if we were 'you' it will happen that
You'll be kindly respected and loved...
