WHENEVER I think about the metropolis, the idealistic portrayal of colossal towers lined up across the city come to my mind. I would imagine a surplus of fortress-like buildings found in ubiquity that shelter the distinguished class attending activities such as parties, balls, and other celebrations. I would think of people who wear dresses and jewelry that glisten even in the darkness, their paraphernalia replicating the golden rays of the sun. As these people of distinction peer out the windows of their towers to the downtrodden, I wonder why this lavish lifestyle is reserved for only a select few.

Reality dictates that outside of these colossal constructions are people who live in paucity. They are housed merely by materials so fragile that it takes little effort from the forces of nature to topple them. Unlike the privileged, these people sport tattered clothing and are treated like vermin as if they are misfortune personified. In these moments where people of poverty look up to the towers of the privileged, I stagger in melancholy as I wonder if they think that the impoverished life is reserved just for them. F ADRIAN PAUL L. TAÑEDO

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