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Footmark

Time to think back what I learn before~
by

Dong Wook Kim

on 6 May 2010

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Transcript of Footmark

Footmark My understanding of literature Discrimination... How writers and audiences were feel about it? Descrimination in literantures

Race discrimination means that you are treated less favourably, because of your race. Sometimes, this unfair treatment can be against the law.
Speeches Speeches seem to be the most direct way that people comment on the issues of the day. Speeches are some of the most vital communication that take place about what is happening in the world. Make an impassioned speech is influence way to attract people. The most important element in speech is sympathy with people. It means, by understanding the purpose of speech, people can understand the social era at that time.
Discrimination Discrimination is a sociological term referring to the treatment taken toward or against a person of a certain group in consideration based solely on class or category. The United Nations explains: "Discriminatory behaviors take many forms, but they all involve some form of exclusion or rejection." Speech is a strong medium to reach people with a strong idea because the speech has a certain point that touches the listener’s heart.
The idea of Discrimination was generalized privious of human civilization, such as gender and racism. Therefore, none-white people usually discriminated from white people. Although, discrimination still exist in the world, it become less harmful than before. Howver, sometimes people apply that idea unconsciously, and people think that is obvios. Mistakes shouldn't repeat again. Books will help to prevent that situation by representing past memory of discrimination. Things fall apart To kill a mockingbird.  Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal...... Gettysburg address Obama's Inauguration Address .........Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remained faithful to the ideals of our forbearers, and true to our founding documents...... Songs Song is the one of the powerful and easy way to influence people no matter what age is. It has literature element that a combination of messages with musical elements Cats in the Cradle Heal the World Novels are the most popular of today's literary forms becasue they give us the biggest indirect experience.
We meet new people in places we have never been, in times and cultures we may or may not be familiar with, and we can take all of this newness nad make meaning for our own live. songs can be personal, inspiritional,and people can convey thoughts about the life. They can help us reflect on our own lives or see things from the point of veiw of sons, and even if a style puts me oof at first, I will continue to give it a chance to grow on me.
Songs come from not only different cultures, but from voices within each culture and if I want to be truely aware of the world around me with all of its complexity, songs can be a good tool for that awareness. My child arrived just the other day;
Came to the world in the usually way
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay.
He lea
ed to walk while I was away.
He was talkin’ ’fore I knew it.
And as he grew he said,
"I’m gonna be like you, Dad.
You know I’m gonna be like you."

Chorus :
And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man ’n the moon.
"When you comin’ home ?"
"Son, I don’t know when.
We’ll get together then.
You know we’ll have a good time then."

Well, my son tu
ed ten just the other day.
He said , "Thanks for the ball, Dad. Come on, let’s play.
Could you teach me to throw ?" I said, "Not today.
I got a lot to do." He said, "That’s okay."
And he walked away and he smiled and he said,
"You know,
I’m gonna be like him, yeah.
You know I’m gonna be like him."

Chorus :

Well, he came from college just the other day,
So much like a man I just had to say,
"I’m proud of you. Could you sit for a while ?"
He shook his head and he said with a smile,
"What I’d really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys.
See you later. Can I have them please ?"

Chorus :
And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man ’n the moon.
"When you comin’ home, Son ?"
"I don’t know when.
We’ll get together then.
You know we’ll have a good time then."

I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away.
I called him up just the other day.
"I’d like to see you, if you don’t mind."
He said, "I’d love to, Dad, if I could find the time.
You see my new job’s a hassle and the kids have the flu,
But it’s sure nice talkin’ to you, Dad.
It’s been sure nice talkin’ to you."

And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me,
He’d grown up just like me.
My boy was just like me.
(Yeah, yeah, yeah) Novels are a large part of literature and one of the main types of writing. They are usually about anything, either reality based or fantasy, there are no rules as to what happens in a novel. There are many characteristics that make a good novel, like the setting, characters and an exciting plot to follow. Some novels come in series, which means a new adventure for every book, most of the time with a new storyline to go with. Novel Though some authors like to write based on reality, sometimes these works reflect a world beyond something we are used to seeing, something more out of the ordinary. These types of novels are filled with imaginative characters, out of the ordinary settings, and crazy scenarios, something you just don’t see every day.
Novels are enjoyable to read because they can take you to a world beyond the norm. These kinds of novels catch the attention and make for better reading and more attention from the reader. Lord of the Flies by: William Golding
“The circle became a horseshoe. A thing was crawling out of the forest. It came darkly, uncertainly. The shrill screaming that rose before the beast was like a pain. The beast stumbled into the horseshoe.
“Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!”
The blue-white scar was constant, the noise unendurable. Simon was crying about a dead man on a hill.
“Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood! Do him in!”
The sticks fell and the mouth of the new circle crunched and screamed. The beast was on its knees in the center, its arms folded over its face. It was crying out against the abominable noise something about a body on the hill. The beast struggled forward, broke the ring and fell over the steep edge of the rock to the sand by the water. At once the crowd surged after it, poured down the rock, leapt on to the beast, screamed, struck, bit, tore. There were no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws.”
Alice In Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
“… How are you getting on now, my dear?” it continued, turning to Alice as it spoke.
“As wet as ever,” said Alice in a melancholy tone: “it doesn’t seem to dry me at all.”
“In that case,” said the Dodo solemnly, raising to his feet, “I move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more energetic remedies”
“Speak English!” said the Eaglet. “I don’t know the meaning of half those long words, and, what’s more, I don’t believe you do either!” And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile: some of the other birds tittered audibly.
“What I was going to say,” said the Dodo in an offended tone, “was, that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race.”
“What is a Caucus-race?” said Alice; not that she much wanted to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that somebody ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything.
“Why,” said the Dodo, “the best way to explain it is to do it.” There's A Place In Your Heart And I Know That It Is Love
And This Place Could Be Much Brighter Than Tomorrow
And If You Really Try You'll Find There's No Need To Cry
In This Place You'll Feel That There's No Hurt Or Sorrow

There Are Ways To Get There If You Care Enough
For The Living Make A Little Space Make A Better Place...

Heal The World Make It A Better Place
For You And For Me And The Entire Human Race
There Are People Dying If You Care Enough
For The Living Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

If You Want To Know Why There's A Love That Cannot Lie
Love Is Strong It Only Cares For Joyful Giving
If We Try We Shall See In This Bliss
We Cannot Feel Fear Or Dread We Stop Existing And Start Living

Then It Feels That Always Love's Enough For Us Growing
So Make A Better World Make A Better World...

Heal The World Make It A Better Place
For You And For Me And The Entire Human Race
There Are People Dying If You Care Enough
For The Living Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

And The Dream We Were Conceived In Will Reveal A Joyful Face
And The World We Once Believed In Will Shine Again In Grace
Then Why Do We Keep Strangling Life Wound This Earth
Crucify Its Soul Though It's Plain To See This World Is Heavenly
Be God's Glow

We Could Fly So High Let Our Spirits Never Die
In My Heart I Feel You Are All
My Brothers Create A World With
No Fear Together We Cry
Happy Tears See The Nations Turn
Their Swords Into Plowshares

We Could Really Get There If You Cared Enough
For The Living Make A Little Space
To Make A Better Place...

Heal The World Make It A Better Place
For You And For Me And The Entire Human Race
There Are People Dying If You Care Enough
For The Living Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

Heal The World Make It A Better Place
For You And For Me And The Entire Human Race
There Are People Dying If You Care Enough
For The Living Make A Better Place
For You And For Me
Heal The World Make It A Better Place
For You And For Me And The Entire Human Race
There Are People Dying If You Care Enough
For The Living Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

There Are People Dying If You Care Enough
For The Living Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

There Are People Dying If You Care Enough
For The Living Make A Better Place
For You And For Me

You And For Me Make it a better place
You And For Me Make it a better place
You And For Me Make it a better place
You And For Me Make it a better place
You And For Me Heal the world we live in
You And For Me Save it for our children
You And For Me Heal the world we live in
You And For Me Save it for our children
You And For Me Heal the world we live in
You And For Me Save it for the children
You And For Me Heal the world we live in
You And For Me Save it for the children
You And For Me Heal the world we live in
You And For Me Save it for the children

Short Stories Footmark
My understanding of literature
Yury Kim 12A Let's start with Short stories, like novels are fiction based. They can be imaginative and surreal just like a novel or a poem; only they are shorter in length.
In a short story, it can be full of plot twists and it could even have a message presented in it.
I prefer short stories over novels most of the time because they are easier to get through. The short length makes the reading lighter, so you don’t have to remember all the different parts of the story. Also, since the story is shorter, the plot moves along faster, so for a quick read, I would much rather read a short story over a novel.
The Monkey’s Paw by W. W. Jacobs "I only just thought of it," she said hysterically. "Why didn't I think of it before? Why didn't you think of it?"
"Think of what?" he questioned.
"The other two wishes," she replied rapidly. "We've only had one."
"Was not that enough?" he demanded fiercely.
"No," she cried triumphantly; "We'll have one more. Go down and get it quickly, and wish our boy alive again."
The man sat in bed and flung the bedcloths from his quaking limbs."Good God, you are mad!" he cried aghast. "Get it," she panted; "get it quickly, and wish - Oh my boy, my boy!"
Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. "Get back to bed he said unsteadily. "You don't know what you are saying."
"We had the first wish granted," said the old woman, feverishly; "why not the second?"
"A coincidence," stammered the old man.
"Go get it and wish," cried his wife, quivering with exitement.
The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. "He has been dead ten days, and besides he - I would not tell you else, but - I could only recognize him by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to see then, how now?"
"Bring him back," cried the old woman, and dragged him towards the door. "Do you think I fear the child I have nursed?
Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the apparition of a figure on horseback, without a head. It is said by some to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the Revolutionary War, and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk hurrying along in the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are not confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and especially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts concerning this spectre, allege that the body of the trooper having been buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest of his head, and that the rushing speed with which he sometimes passes along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the churchyard before daybreak.
Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows; and the spectre is known at all the country firesides, by the name of the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.
Poetry There are many kinds of poetry that have been written and that apply for different people. Some poetry is aimed at certain age groups, some have an important message that the poet wants to tell or simply a way to express the feelings of someone.
In poetry, there is usually a story behind what the poet has written, like love, loss or revenge, these are popular topics chosen by poets.
The way that a poem is written depends on the poet, as the structure can all be different. The writing styles can vary which can make them very distinct to readers as to who wrote it.
Though it does not apply in all poetry, a general thought is that it contains rhyme and meter.  This can make poetry a lot easier for people to read, and even more enjoyable as it can be made into a song.

The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or devil!By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
 
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting-"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.“
Rain Before Dawn by F. Scott Fitzgerald The dull, faint patter in the drooping hours
Drifts in upon my sleep and fills my hair
With damp; the burden of the heavy air
Is strewn upon me where my tired soul cowers,
Shrinking like some lone queen in empty towers
Dying. Blind with unrest I grow aware:
The pounding of broad wings drift down the stair
And sates me like the heavy scent of flowers.
I lie upon my heart, my eyes like hands
Grip at the soggy pillow. Now the dawn
Tears from her wetted breast the splattered blouse
Of night; lead-eyed and moist she straggles o’er the lawn,
Between the curtains brooding stares and stands
Like some drenched swimmer – Death’s within the house!
Meanings/Messages In most literature in the present day, there is a meaning behind the story, something that the author or poet is trying to get across. Sometimes, the meaning of the story is the main idea, the whole purpose of the story itself.
The messages that some authors try to tell are not always meant in a good tone. Sometimes, the message is a description of what is happening, how problems are evolving into something big, and how it is seemingly less likely that there will be hope.
In certain stories where there is a message, it is sometimes described by using different characterizations of the problem. Something else might be used to interpret it, and it is up to the reader to understand what the author or poet is trying to show. These types of descriptions can be represented by objects, animals or even people. This gives the reader more thought into the story. There Will Come soft Rains by Ray Bradbury Ten-fifteen.The garden sprinklers whirled up in golden founts, filling the soft morning air with scattering of brightness. The water pelted windowpanes, running down the charred west side where the house had been burned evenly free of its white paint. The entire west face of the house was black, save for five places. Here the silhouette in paint of a man mowing a lawn. Here, as in a photograph, a woman bent to pick up flowers. Still farther over, their images burned on wood in one titanic instant, a small boy, hands flung into the air higher up, the image of a thrown ball, and opposite him, a girl, hands raised to catch a ball which never came down. The five spots of paint—the man, the woman, the children, the ball—remained. The rest was a thin charcoaled layer. The gentle sprinkler rain filled the garden with falling light.

Twelve noon.  A dog whined, shivering, on the front porch.  The front door recognized the dog voice and opened. The dog, once huge and fleshy, but now gone to bone and covered with sores, moved in and though the house, tracking mud. Behind it whirred angry mice, angry at having to pick up mud, angry at inconvenience.
The Tortoise and the Hareby Aesop …With a careless glance at the tortoise, now halfway along the course, he decided to have another snooze before flashing past the winning post. And smiling at the thought of the look on the tortoise's face when it saw the hare speed by, he fell fast asleep and was soon snoring happily. The sun started to sink, below the horizon, and the tortoise, who had been plodding towards the winning post since morning, was scarcely a yard from the finish. At that very point, the hare woke with a jolt. He could see the tortoise a speck in the distance and away he dashed. He leapt and bounded at a great rate, his tongue lolling, and gasping for breath. Just a little more and he'd be first at the finish. But the hare's last leap was just too late, for the tortoise had beaten him to the winning post. Poor hare! Tired and in disgrace, he slumped down beside the tortoise who was silently smiling at him.
 
"Slowly does it every time!" he said.
Theater Theater is a great literary works that needs lots of efforts and time to come up with the drama. I like theater because the actors change to the characters of the story as real for them to act and show important messages to the audiences. The importance of the theater is exaggeration and movements of the actors, which gives different views of emotions of the characters. Theater is known to be important because it is considered as art in our world. One thing special about theater is that it has dramatic elements: aside, soliloquy, and monologue. The dramatic elements provides special effect to the audience, which allows the story to be more exciting.
[Aside]
Polonius: How say you by that? Still harping on my daughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said I was a fishmonger: he is far gone, far gone: and truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for love; very near this.
[Soliloquy]
Hamlet: O that this too too solid flesh would melt
Hamlet: O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I 

HAMLET: To be, or not to be--that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep--
No more--and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep--
To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. -- Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia! -- Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered.
Monologue ERIK: I am dying...of love...That is how it is.... I loved her so!...And I love her still...daroga...and I am dying of love for her, I...I tell you!...If you knew how beautiful she was... when she let me kiss her... alive...It was the first...time, daroga, the first...time I ever kissed a woman.... Yes, alive....I kissed her alive ...and she looked as beautiful as if she had been dead! I kissed her just like that, on her forehead... and she did not draw back her forehead from my lips!...Oh, she is a good girl!...She is a good, honest girl, and she saved your life, daroga, at a moment when I would not have given twopence for your Persian skin. As a matter of fact, nobody bothered about you.
Why were you there with that little chap? You would have died as well as he! My word, how she entreated me for her little chap! But I told her that, as she had turned the scorpion, she had, through that very fact, and of her own free will, become engaged to me and that she did not need to have two men engaged to her, which was true enough. As for you, you did not exist, you had ceased to exist, I tell you, and you were going to die with the other!...Only, mark me, daroga, when you were yelling like the devil, because of the water, Christine came to me with her beautiful blue eyes wide open, and swore to me, as she hoped to be saved, that she consented to be MY LIVING WIFE!..Until then, in the depths of her eyes, daroga, I had always seen my dead wife; it was the first time I saw MY LIVING WIFE there. She was sincere, as she hoped to be saved. She would not kill herself. It was a bargain..
[Monologue]
Culture Culture is a great literary works since it shares and provides the traditions, which we can learn from reading it. I like to read books about different cultures since it helps us to discover how it was formed and practiced in their everyday life. Learning something new gives me excitement. Literary works based on culture are less attractive in our modern times since people don’t care about the past, and also the idea of modernism makes us to break apart from our culture and traditions. However, through the knowledge of culture and traditions, it helps us to conclude the foundation of that society, which allows me to compare and contrast it with my culture and traditions that I practices.
“Have you written to your dad yet?” asked Nene1 one afternoon as she sat with Nnaemeka in her room at 16 Kasanga Street, Lagos.“ No. I’ve been thinking about it. I think it’s better to tell him when I get home on leave!” 
“But why? Your leave is such a long way off yetsix whole weeks. He should be let into our happiness now.” 
Nnaemeka was silent for a while, and then began very slowly as if he groped for his words: “I wish I were sure it would be happiness to him.” 
“Of course it must,” replied Nene, a little surprised. “Why shouldn’t it?” 
“You have lived in Lagos all your life, and you know very little about people in remote parts of the country.” 
“That’s what you always say. But I don’t believe anybody will be so unlike other people that they will be unhappy when their sons are engaged to marry.” 
“Yes. They are most unhappy if the engagement is not arranged by them. In our case it’s worseyou are not even an Ibo.” <Quote 1>
Man, supposing you and I, escaping this battle, would be able to live on forever, ageless, immortal, so neither would I myself go on fighting in the foremost, nor would I urge you into the fighting where men win glory. But now, seeing that the spirits of death stand close about us in their thousands, no man can turn aside or escape them, let us go on and win glory for ourselves, or yield it to others.
<Quote 2>
Honor the gods, Achilles; pity him.Think of your father; I'm more pitiful;I've suffered what no other mortal has,I've kissed the hand of one who killed my children."He spoke, and stirred Achilles' grief to tears;He gently pushed the old man's hand away.They both remembered; Priam wept for Hector,Sitting crouched before Achilles' feet.Achilles mourned his father, then againPatroculs, and their mourning stirred the house Chapter 9

You can just take that back, boy!" This order, given by me to Cecil Jacobs, was the beginning of a rather thin time for Jem and me. My fists were clenched and I was ready to let fly.
Atticus had promised me he would wear me out if he ever heard of me fighting any more; I was far too old and too big for such childish things, and the sooner I learned to hold in, the better off everybody would be. I soon forgot.
Cecil Jacobs made me forget. He had announced in the schoolyard the day before that Scout Finch's daddy defended niggers. I denied it, but told Jem.
"What'd he mean sayin' that?" I asked.
"Nothing," Jem said. "Ask Atticus, he'll tell you."
"Do you defend niggers, Atticus?" I asked him that evening.
"Of course I do. Don't say nigger, Scout. That's common."
“It 's what everybody at school says."
"From now on it'll be everybody less one“
"Well if you don't want me to grow up talkin' that way, why do you send me to school?"
My father looked at me mildly, amusement in his eyes. Despite our compromise, my campaign to avoid school had continued in one form or another since my first day's dose of it: the beginning of last September bad brought on sinking spells, dizziness, and mild gastric complaints. I went so far as to pay a nickel for the privilege of rubbing my head against the head of Miss Rachel's cook's son, who was afflicted with a tremendous ringworm. It didn't take.
But I was worrying another bone. "Do all lawyers defend n-Negroes, Atticus?"
"Of course they do, Scout."
"Then why did Cecil say you defended niggers? He made it sound like you were runnin' a still." Chaper 3

She could not expected to cook and eat while her husband starved. And so at a very early age when he was striving despeately to build a barn though share-croping Okonkwo was also fening for his father's house. It was like puting grains a corn into a bag full of holes. His mother and sisters worked hard enough, but they grew women's crops, like coco-yams, beans and cassava. yam, the king of crops, was a man's crop. Author Author gives true art and color to the literary works, since they work hard to entertain the audiences and also shares important messages to the readers as well. Without the hard works of the authors, we cannot earn knowledge and it will be harder to develop our knowledge in literary works. Author expresses their idea through writing that will further educate us and develop our lifestyle in the future. Author is simply a human being like us, but they have more experiences, which they allow us to know it through reading their works. One things I’m proud of the authors because they represents their nationality and literary tradition that they learned or adopted.
<Quote>
During the second year of Okonkwo’s exile, Obierika brings several bags of cowries (shells used as currency) that he has made by selling Okonkwo’s yams. Obierika plans to continue to do so until Okonkwo returns to the village. Obierika also brings the bad news that Abame, another village, has been destroyed by the white man.
Soon afterward, six missionaries travel to Mbanta. Through an interpreter named Mr. Kiaga, the missionaries’ leader, Mr. Brown, speaks to the villagers. He tells them that their gods are false and that worshipping more than one God is idolatrous. But the villagers do not understand how the Holy Trinity can be accepted as one God. Although his aim is to convert the residents of Umuofia to Christianity, Mr. Brown does not allow his followers to antagonize the clan.
<Quote>
There is a place where the sidewalk endsAnd before the street begins,And there the grass grows soft and white,And there the sun burns crimson bright,And there the moon-bird rests from his flightTo cool in the peppermint wind.Let us leave this place where the smoke blows blackAnd the dark street winds and bends.Past the pits where the asphalt flowers growWe shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,And watch where the chalk-white arrows goTo the place where the sidewalk ends.Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,For the children, they mark, and the children, they knowThe place where the sidewalk ends.
Chinua Achebe
Shel Silverstein END...
THANK YOU ^^
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