The Concrete Jungle

White and yellow, peering through dark structures. Structures that touch the sky's heels. Cars honking, roads roaring, people yelling and hollering. Walking through the streets, smelling the aroma of Asian cuisine, Italian gourmet, Hispanic flavor, and grills frying burgers. The smell of hot dogs sizzling and meatball sandwiches being prepared. Odors so thick that you can taste the food being served. Moisture so sodden, you can feel water forming on your skin. All laden with history and and folklore. Stories of love and romance. Tales of struggle and strife. Dramas of the hunger for power, money, and fame. Chronicles of immigration and homestead. Impurities being formed and working to perfect them. Where we stand by liberty and freedom. Where the magic of things creative and all things imagined comes to life. The place that houses a man and woman who protect our liberty and freedom. One is a lady of green, with a torch of yellow. The other is a man of grey who sits on the chair of truth and justice. The city that holds the heart to our nation.