In A Few Rooms

Looking in through windows, I peer into the
standstill life of quiet houses

It is easiest to think while all alone, studying
the lives in each and every home.

All of this worlds sorrows exist within a few
rooms.

The daily struggle of earning our bread, wanting
more than a roof and bed.

But within this place I can see freedom born.
Unlike outside, on our slave paid road.

In our toil, our sorrow, our groans we may
find the cause for us all to grow.

To take this away is to dull the soul. We need
our pain, and rain, so our lives will not
meaninglessly fade away.

I ask only this, that we should be left alone.
that by our own merits succeed, or like animals
to Rome.