Steamy

A rough draft that I had to put down. I'll work out the details later.

Walk from street from to street
There is a new landscape.
And the steam coming up through the grates,
Its what brings the tourists through.

I like this town with all its scenery.
Its people with a cause,
The shattered, the nameless,
Its chosen few.

They all call to me,
Tell me to stay,
Forget the simple scene
That I knew.

How can a place pull you so much
In one direction?
I didn't know before
That there was
Perfection
In simple steam.