Snails

A city can smell its inhabitants
When I saw her speaking through her smile
About 'her city' as she called it
I saw all that the dregs hoped for
And all that the elite strove for

It's odd that wind is invisible
And yet it knocks at us
Prying into our innards
And hoping for some respite
From this city it visits ever so often

There is nothing to live for
And yet, amidst the drear
A shining face with bright eyes
Awakens in us, hope from our hopes past
To live in peace
While people toil by