I Love to Write
The room
The room tucked away in a secret place known by so many
The room no windows out of which to see
No windows through which to see in
It is closed but not guarded
It is warm inside
The room filled with minds questioning
Filled with minds exploring ideas
The air is tense with stress
Yet relaxed with a carefree nonchalance
We are young
We are free
Though trapped in this room
To either work or pretend
There is a representative of everyone here
In the room
The room tucked away in a secret place known by so many
The room no windows out of which to see
No windows through which to see in
It is closed but not guarded
It is warm inside
The room filled with minds questioning
Filled with minds exploring ideas
The air is tense with stress
Yet relaxed with a carefree nonchalance
We are young
We are free
Though trapped in this room
To either work or pretend
There is a representative of everyone here
In the room