What object should i take some photos for photography (low viewpoint) at home

Match the sentence to its correct verb mood

In a sense we’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. when the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the constitution and the declaration of independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every american was to fall heir. this note was a promise that all men—yes, black men as well as white men—would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. it is obvious today that america has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. instead of honoring this sacred obligation, america has given the negro people a bad check, a check that has come back marked “insufficient funds.” but we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. we refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. and so we’ve come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and security of justice. in this section of the speech, analyze martin luther king’s connection between a defaulted promissory note and the lack of freedom experienced by african americans. which option offers the best analysis? question 3 options: mlk creates this analogy to communicate that america has enough freedom for all, but it needs to live up to its promises. mlk makes the analogy that america has run out of freedom. not everyone deserves to have it. mlk communicates that america should equally distribute funds to all citizens. everyone deserves equal access to the government’s money. mlk demonstrates that america is improving in equality and should keep the forward momentum.

In the sweet hereafter and the following poem, what does the newborn symbolize? "every death is magic from the enemy to be avenged" by brooks haxton when fever burned the last light out of my daughter's eyes, i swore to find and kill the ones to blame. men must mount the long boat in the dark with spears. at dawn, where the flowering spicebush hid my scent, i crouched. a young wife, newborn slung across her chest, came first for spring water. she stooped. my god, for vengeance, spoke her secret name inside my ear. her god stepped back with no scream, his right hand at his mouth, the knuckles clenched between the pointed teeth. death is not evil. innocence of childhood the continuing cycle of life and death the children that will never be born