What are you looking at? I see you stare Off into space, Like your eyes had rolled To some distant land. What could you be thinking, When your defenses lower For just that second, And all eternity drifts About you. Is it hate, is it war Is it eggs and hamsters That you think of? You could be thinking of all manner of stuff from marbles to crickets and bricks to friends. Or is it love, And, perhaps, gasp, me? Or is it just bad poetry?