This poem is about how Louis Simpson is looking for loved one. Through out the entire text he expresses his loss for hope and courage, questioning whether not he should live and love of his departed, and he has tremendous fears of losing his precious memories of his loved one.
Answer:
The clouds stretched across the sky and they looked so fake yet somehow they were real. That day, I wasn't feeling anything in particular perhaps, I was having mood swings. The darkness tends to cause some sort of sadness within myself and today there was no sun. No sun, just clouds that stretched all the way to China and back. They made me feel like a little person but I remembered that, <em>it's a small world</em>. Nobody was thinking of me at that moment yet I wasn't thinking about anyone either. I felt common, not rare, just common. It seemed that nothing I could do would ever make a change in this world we call home. A song was replaying in my head the lyrics waning in crescendo, "Roses are red, violets are blue, my heart is dead, i'm such a fool." What more could I need to feel so lost within my thoughts than being alone with them. I looked up at the roof which extended far, almost too far reminding me of why I chose to live in a mansion. Well, actually I'm not sure why I chose to live in a mansion by myself. As I thought to myself, I only conjured sad thoughts. I felt like crying but only then I would be feeling bad for myself. <em>Rich people aren't supposed to be sad? Not like this aren't they? </em>I wanted to believe that, be like them, everybody else but it was something that I couldn't be. Rich was just a word but It can't describe how I felt. It just described who I was in an aspect of wealth. All alone, I sat in my chair rocking back and forth looking through the isolated and strangely large circular window. Clouds among clouds among more clouds stretching a seemingly endless route. I wish I was up there so I could feel the weightlessness that I so longlessly dreamed about. The weightlessness that brought no sadness, stress, or struggles. Down here I was merely a weight on the world, being of no use to anyone or anything, maybe even a diamond in the rough but if my uniqueness showed then maybe I would actually have potential. Still, that sounded very unlikely. I couldn't honor my myself but the weightlessness of the clouds could. Above those clouds only then would I see the sun once again. How happy would I be? Eternally happy. Only the clouds could make me happy because they looked so fake yet they were real<em> just like myself. </em>
Answer:
f
Explanation:
developing a character through description
If this is to kill a mockingbird then jem thinks atticus is worried about the trial and how he knows he cannot win but that he must try because that would make him less of a person
The correct answer should be A. an allegory
Anecdotes are stories that actually happened and are out of the ordinary so they're fun because of that. Myths are stories about how the world was created or how the world works. Speeches can be about anything. Allegories are like long metaphors, like if a metaphor was turned into an entire story and they use heavy symbolism.
