In the realm of stereotypes, I begrudgingly confess,
A sense arises, whispering that I'm not your equal, I confess.
Beloved by all, surrounded with company divine,
Laughter, conversations, companionship, forever thine.
Yet who am I left with? Do I have you, my dear?
Comparisons futile, I admit, but oh, the annoyance I bear.
Wordlessly I stand, no utterance escapes my lips,
Silent I remain, invisible as the moon's eclipse.
For you toil from nine to five, with no thought of my presence,
Untroubled by my absence, preserving your essence.
Fear not, for I shall endure, on the nocturnal path I tread,
Later, always later, I will be found by your side, keeping you fed.
