Sometimes I Believe That God Wants To

And Finally I Twist My Heart Round Again, So That The Bad Is On The Outside And The Good Is On The Inside, And Keep On Trying To Find A Way Of Becoming What I Would So Like To Be, And Could Be, If There Weren't Any Other People Living In The World.

Why Can't People Live With Each Other In Peace? Why Must Everything Be Destroyed? Why Must People Go Hungry While Surplus Food Elsewhere In The World Rots Away? Oh Why Must People Be So Crazy?

I Never Utter My Real Feelings About Anything. My Lighter, Superficial Side Will Always Be Too Quick For The Deeper Side Of Me, And That's Why It Always Wins.

The Question Is Very Understandable, But No One Has Found A Satisfactory Answer To It So Far. Yes, Why Do They Make Still More Gigantic Planes, Still Heavier Bombs And, At The Same Time, Prefabricated Houses For Reconstruction? Why Should Millions Be Spent Daily On The War And Yet There's Not A Penny Available For Medical Services, Artists, Or For Poor People? Why Do Some People Have To Starve, While There Are Surpluses Rotting In Other Parts Of The World? Oh, Why Are People So Crazy?

Although I'm Only Fourteen, I Know Quite Well What I Want, I Know Who Is Right And Who Is Wrong. I Have My Opinions, My Own Ideas And Principles, And Although It May Sound Pretty Mad From An Adolescent, I Feel More Of A Person Than A Child, I Feel Quite Indepedent Of Anyone.