I like to take drives br late at night br and pass all those old houses br with the lights on br and the drapes carelessly forgotten. br br I can't help myself. br I have to peek. br I wonder br what their house is like, br what they're saying, br why they're laughing, br why they're crying. br br I wonder if they would br invite me in br if they knew I was br thinking of them. br br This is just how I feel br when I read your poetry. br I feel like I'm driving by your home br and stealing a peek br through your windows. br br Thanks for inviting me in.