When most people observe big cities, they see huge skyscrapers towering above the rest of the city. They may even see tens of thousands of people trampling about the narrow streets like bees all crowed in a nest. What most people don't see however are the homeless people who live in the cold, overcrowded streets of these big cities. These sections exist in every big city; they are called the ghettos.
             In these ghettos the smell of garbage illuminates the misty, stench filled air. Everywhere you look you see cardboard boxes, and old drums used to light fires. Old cigarette packs and liquor bottles are found just about everywhere. Stained newspapers are found inside the cardboard boxes, as some sort of blanket or shelter from the cold.
             In this grueling place exists a pitiful and sorry looking creature. His hair is so greasy; it looks as if it has motor oil in it. His clothes have stains and crumbs of food accumulated on them from hours of digging through the deep, rusty dumpsters. In his dirty, oily, black little paws he holds a half-rotten apple, maybe his only meal of the day. The Vietnam army coat he has on is so tight that you can see his slender, bony shoulders sticking out. His checkered shirt is buttoned all the way up to his bony neck to keep the cold air from hitting his filthy skin. He also furnishes a pair of old faded hand me down jeans, with a hole just above the right knee. He also has a sorry looking pair of Nikes on, with the soles worn so thin it is as if he is walking on his feet. His nose is as red as a cherry, from countless hours in sub-zero climate. It looks as if this person hasn't had a shower in a couple of months. He has a full beard that connects to his scraggly looking m!
             oustache. He has fragments of his last meal still scattered on his beard. His teeth are as yellow as a traffic light, and as crocked as a winding dirt road. He looks like a prehistoric, cave man. His hai...