I'd never have to look into a homeless man's eyes as I quicken my step to get past him, because I'm scared of him, scared that he'll see the lies in my eyes when I tell him "No Mister, sorry I have no change" as I walk up to my warm room in my expensive private college trying not to feel that terrible feeling that everyone feels when they should have done something nice but didn't. As I open up my expensive laptop and begin to type away complaining about the paper that I have to write on Shakespeare's Henry V and whining about how I have to work both Friday and Saturday night next weekend. Not even thinking that maybe, just maybe, he too was once the young college student racing past the homeless man and thinking the very same thoughts. Never even realizing that the homeless man that I can see from the window of my warm room in my expensive private college might be begging to work Friday night and Saturday night and every night in between.

Still I sit and whine about how my bills are piling up and about how I can't get a date for Friday night and poor me who is always ignored by everyone. Of course always trying not to think about the homeless man begging on the corner, always ignored by the students walking up to their warm rooms in the expensive private college to hop on their expensive laptops and tell their poor me stories. Never remembering the poor homeless guy but never forgetting their plight, the plight of the busy college student who will get out of school and maybe save all of the homeless people who are begging for money on the street corner. Or maybe they'll become one of the homeless people themselves and finally realize the joy they should've felt about having the opportunity to sit in their warm rooms in their expensive private college writing a paper about the role of women in Shakespeare's Henry V on their expensive laptops. And realizing that maybe they are much, much poorer than the homeless man begging for change on the corner.