I'm A Good Judge Of My Own

You Still Have A Lot Of Time To Make Yourself Be What You Want. There's Still Lots Of Good In The World. Tell Dally. I Don't Think He Knows.

It Was Too Vast A Problem To Be Just A Personal Thing. There Should Be Some Help, Someone Should Tell Them Before It Was Too Late. Someone Should Tell Their Side Of The Story, And Maybe People Would Understand Then, And Wouldn’t Be So Quick To Judge A Boy By The Amount Of Hair Oil He Wore.

Suddenly It Wasn't Only A Personal Thing To Me. I Could Picture Hundreds And Hundreds Of Boys Living On The Wrong Sides Of Cities, Boys With Black Eyes Who Jumped At Their Own Shadows. Hundreds Of Boys Who Maybe Watched Sunsets And Looked At Stars And Ached For Something Better. I Could See Boys Going Down Under Street Lights Because They Were Mean And Tough And Hated The World, And It Was Too Late To Tell Them That There Was Still Good In It, And They Wouldn't Believe You If You Did.

I Really Do Like Listening To Stuff That's Happened To Other People. I Guess That's Why I Like To Read.

It Seemed Funny That The Sunset She Saw From Her Patio And The One I Saw From The Back Steps Was The Same One. Maybe The Two Worlds We Lived In Weren’t So Different. We Saw The Same Sunset.