geckofan1

Everywhere around you is grey. Not necessarily in a literal sense- though yes, in this concrete jungle, much of your surroundings were of muted tones. But no, you were referring to an emotional grey, a bleakness that could only be described as such. Your world is dirty, polluted, and filled will cruel intent and broken dreams. Every day it seemed, you saw one more join the sea of faces in the shadows, in the alleyways and back roads, begging for food, for change, anything they could get their hands on. It saddened you, but your mother had taught you long ago that not all of the pitiful faces were kind, and that not all tales of woe were more