In a typical and ideal parent child relationship‚ the parent loves their child. Sappho’s poem “Sleep‚ Darling” portrays through allusion and figurative language that the speakers daughter is very precious to them. The speaker has “a small/ daughter” (1‚2) named “Kleis” (3). In Greek‚ this name means ’a key’. Keys often symbolize release or the opening of things hence freedom. Thus this line entails that the speaker feels liberated from the rest of the world through their daughter. This is
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I’m sitting on the sand and feel myself growing. When she turns around and smiles at me‚ it took my breath away. And when I see her reach behind her and pull her top away... I had to take a deep breath and relax before I stand up. She slowly slides into the ocean until all I can see is her head. She approaches the edge of the water‚ reaching the point
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live forever if you were not happy and felt alone? My grandmother was born on June 1st‚ 1920 in Detroit‚ Illinois. Being one of seven kids‚ she strived to be independent and immersed herself in music. Relationship Description I have obviously known my grandma my whole life‚ but I have an extra special connection with her because I am her namesake. My grandma has lived with my parents for over 26 years; therefore I saw her everyday throughout my childhood. However‚ since moving away to college I
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stuck in this place my entire life. Same nurses‚ same needles‚ and the same room. I am not normal like the other kids that come and go in this place. I am trapped. I was born with the disease. My doctors say it is very rare and they have only seen a few other cases. I don’t remember what it’s called‚ but I know it’s incurable. I have gone through many surgeries and weakness destroyed my ability to walk. They don’t know how to fix me. I am fourteen now and I have lived my whole life in this
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could perform as well as my peers. I felt like I had to work twice as hard and long as other students. I would soon come to know that the reasons for my hating school were because I have issues in the areas of concentration‚ reading problems‚ and developed chronic migraines. Thankfully‚ through perseverance‚ my family and I were able to determine what my issue were which helped me to obtain the confidence and determination to overcome future obstacles In second grade‚ my teacher discovered that
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I come from a low-income‚ single parent‚ immigrant household. My life hasn’t been the easiest‚ but the challenges I faced growing up that most shaped who I am today weren’t from any external factors. They were within me. I am in a constant struggle of identity: humans‚ particularly insecure‚ neurotic‚ coming-of-age women like myself‚ are in a constant search for identification‚ an anchor that we hold on to validate our existence and legitimize any worries we have that we aren’t normal. It was difficult
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I am going to write about my culture through food‚ friends and family‚ and also my hobbies/pastimes. I chose these three categories because I feel they are what influence me as a person in which makes up MY Culture. My culture is very different this doesn’t mean I don’t have a culture. I’m going to start with food hmm… my diet pretty much consists of chips‚ pop‚ and anything that goes in the microwave for less than five minutes. Now every once and awhile my dad cooks maybe twice a week mostly
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for the mistake by saying “I’m sorry”‚ or “I apologize”. In my situation‚ a little more effort‚ other than two words was definitely necessary. It truly took almost a year‚ to fix my mistake‚ and it was a horrendous outrage. A few years ago‚ it was a warm summer day‚ and my family had been considering getting a side-by-side. Growing up on acres‚ and acres of land is amazingly beautiful‚ especially with an off road vehicle. Eventually‚ my parents decided to buy one‚ and yes‚ of course‚ I had a strong
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is 5 AM in the morning‚ my room was just plain dark as if there was no existence. I noticed my door open with a loud *Squeeeeak*‚ a quick hand motion I saw‚ almost looked it something of the speed of light. My owl next to my door was gone‚ I screamed out loud scared‚ yelling “WHOS THERE?” no one replied but a very loud *Screeeeetch*. There was someone moving down the staircase‚ the sounds it made spooked me. I thought to myself “Who would steal a stuffed owl?” could it be my brother or sister? I quickly
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the American Dream along with his immigrant parents. My neighbors were good people‚ I lived on a cul-de-sac playing sports and other classic games like tag. I was the only foreigner in my neighborhood (Turkish-American)‚ but I felt as though I fit in. My family‚ however‚ was another story. My parents divorced when I was four years old. My father remarried within a year and took us (my older brother and I) in with him. I immediately rejected my stepmother at first side as she tried to impose herself
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