Through this poem‚ Karl Shapiro explores the significance of a life despite the creature’s diminutive size‚ and questions the persona’s own ethical standards. The use of stylistic features such as imagery puts forth the moral dilemma that the persona underwent after killing an insect. Through the eyes of the persona‚ we as readers are made to ponder over the issue of our own moral standards‚ by questioning the importance we give to the worth of a life. Furthermore‚ Shapiro sets the poem in the first-person
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It was a beautiful day and the beginning of fall around noon‚ to be precise‚ and I was on my regular lunch break. The birds chirped a melody of joy and the grass stood perfectly even and glimmered a dark satin green. It was a day I wanted to be to extra thankful for because of the beautiful surrounding natures had offered for the day‚ but unfortunately life had a curve ball to throw at me that would instead make me wish I was blind to everything in life. It hit me right in the face and wanted to
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convincing myself that I was forlorn though my parents were there all along. I cried until my pillow was soaked with tears every night. She captivated me with her resonating light‚ nut now I’m in a bind by the life she left behind. I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that she is no longer here. Nonetheless I’m suppressed by my childish fears. When I’d cried she’d wipe away all of my tears‚ when I’d scream she’d fight away all of my fears and she held my hand through all of these years but my selfishness
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A Friends Crucible I walk into the dull atmosphere classroom‚ pictures of present and past high school baseball players stare back at me. The marker board covered in scribbles of math and assignments that will soon be issued to us by the teacher. One look at the teacher and you can tell he wasn’t in the best of health. Starting with his overweight physic to his white‚ pasty skin‚ almost a bit discolored in some areas. It was soon discovered early in the year that he suffered from a heart deficiency
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whisper‚ I grab two Advil off the nearby nightstand‚ and wash them down with a sip of coffee. I squeeze my eyes tight‚ and begin to feel tears burn the back of my eyelids. My thoughts begin to become tainted with feelings of despair‚ hopelessness and sorrow. I open my eyes‚ and standing within arm’s reach of me‚ is my ten year old son. I choke back my tears‚ force myself to smile and reach out for a hug. I squeeze my son tightly and for a fraction of a second I feel at ease. Within that second
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minute. It was heartbreaking seeing him like that. He was feeling pain everyday and we couldn’t do anything about it. About two days before his death‚ everyone went to say their possible last goodbyes. At this time I went to shed a few handful of tears in my empty‚ frigid‚ starless room. Prayers filled the
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lip quivered before tears welled in her eyes. Kara reached for her‚ but Lena turned away from her hands. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks before falling from her jaw. Her shoulders shook as she covered her face with her hands and ran into the bedroom. Kara stood in the kitchen‚ shocked. Lena never cries unless it’s something monumental. She cried when Kara proposed to her and she cried when she found out she was pregnant but that was basically it. So to have Lena burst into tears‚ meant that she was
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its crimson the waking ray. My dreams‚ when life first opened to me‚ My dreams‚ when the hopes of youth beat high‚ Were to see thy lov’d face‚ O gem of the Orient sea‚ From gloom and grief‚ from care and sorrow free; No blush on thy brow‚ no tear in thine eye Dream of my life‚ my living and burning desire‚ All hail! cries the soul that is now to take flight; All hail! And sweet it is for thee to expire; To die for thy sake‚ that thou mayst aspire; And sleep in thy bosom eternity’s long
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Back at Home (Therapeutic Drumming Chronicles) The tears appear when the brain thinks and sweats too much…so the sweat goes through eyes as tears. -11 years old child “Hello Martin‚ I was a participant in Insight 4 Seminars. Before your rhythm session‚ something unleashed in me and I cried three days in a row. At your session also cried to a certain point‚ but after a
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The Pool Flashing red and blue dominated the room. Video games were all he could see; nothing could tear him away. Engulfed in sounds of race cars and yelling fans‚ he sat there‚ clueless. No noise penetrated his ears. Fingers ran across controls at light speed‚ his mind focused completely on the game. The sun rose‚ leaving a glare on the television screen. Images of the crashing cars hid behind white light‚ and frustrated by the forces beyond his control‚ he sat back‚ waiting to lose. Bored‚
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