True or false: there are four stages of the writing process.
a. true
b. false

Iwill give brainliest1.when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old daughter why she can't go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see the tears welling up in her little eyes when she is told that fun town is closed to colored children, and see the depressing clouds of inferiority begin to form in her little mental sky… •type of figurative language: •meaning of figurative language: •effect on tone and mood: •effect on audience: 2.like a boil that can never be cured as long as it is covered up but must be opened with all its pus-flowing ugliness to the natural medicines of air and light, injustice must likewise be exposed, with all of the tension its exposing creates, to the light of human conscience and the air of national opinion before it can be cured. •type of figurative language: •meaning of figurative language: •effect on tone and mood: •effect on audience: 3.over and over again i have found myself asking: "who worships here? who is their god? where were their voices when the lips of governor barnett dripped with words of interposition and nullification? where were their voices of support when tired, bruised, and weary negro men and women decided to rise from the dark dungeons of complacency to the bright hills of creative protest? " •type of figurative language: •meaning of figurative language: •effect on tone and mood:

Ineed ideas for this essay something easy that i can do does anyone have any ideas on what i should write on for this 100 points ! write a procedural essay with media that is 1 ½–2 pages in length. clearly state your topic, and include all steps necessary to complete the procedure. you will submit your prewriting and planning documents along with your essay.

One element of lyric poetry is personal reflection. which lines in this poem most clearly illustrate that element? i wandered lonely as a cloudby william wordsworthi wandered lonely as a cloudthat floats on high o'er vales and hills,when all at once i saw a crowd,a host, of golden daffodils; beside the lake, beneath the trees,fluttering and dancing in the breeze.continuous as the stars that shineand twinkle on the milky way.they stretched in never-ending linealong the margin of a bay: ten thousand saw i at a glance,tossing their heads in sprightly dance.the waves beside them danced; but theyout-did the sparkling waves in glee: a poet could not but be gay.in such a jocund company: i gazed and gazed—but little thoughtwhat wealth the show to me had brought: for oft, when on my couch i liein vacant or in pensive mood,they flash upon that inward eyewhich is the bliss of solitude; and then my heart with pleasure fills,and dances with the daffodils.