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Submitted on
October 25, 2012
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Sta.sh Writer
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On the west side of town,

Lies the best of the best.

Those snobby rich Socs,

Whom which we detest.

 

They carry themselves.

Life is great; they don’t care.

They leave us in ruins,

But that’s life; it’s unfair.

 

Now we are the Greasers,

Living on the east side.

In a place that is useless,

Drifting onwards with pride.

 

Our parents are poor folk,

(It’s that, or they’re dead)

But we’ve banded together.

We’re a family instead.

 

Us Greasers are brothers,

And our loyalty shows,

Through our thoughts and our actions,

And our hatred of foes.

 


One night after dark,

When two Greasers were talking,

Those Socs showed up,

Looking drunk, mean, and mocking.

 

As Pony was drowning,

Clinging onto dear life,

Johnny froze and attacked,

Taking lives with his knife.

 

Soon Ponyboy wakens,

To see they have fled.

They’ve all gone but one,

For there’s one that is dead.

 

A story is told,

Through the eyes of this boy.

The result of the chaos,

Is not one of joy.

 

As Johnny lay dying,

From wounds young and old,

His voice comes in whispers,

To Pony: “Stay gold.”

 

Basically, this was a project I made for school. We have just finished reading, "The Outsiders" in class. It's not that bad of a book, but some parts still manage to confuse me. Otherwise, it was very nicely written. :)
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