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OpenStudy (anonymous):
go for it
OpenStudy (chasebraves):
find the figurative languages in this poem Why speak of hate, when I do bleed for love?
Not hate, my love, but Love doth bite my tongue
Till I taste stuff that makes my rhyming rough
So flatter I my fever for the one
For whom I inly mourn, though seem to shun.
A rose is arrows is eros, so what
If I confuse the shade that I’ve become
With winedark substance in a lover’s cup?
But stop my tonguely wound, I’ve bled enough.
If I be fair, or false, or freaked with fear
If I my tongue in lockèd box immure
Blame not me, for I am sick with love.
Yet would I be your friend most willingly
Since friendship would infect me killingly.
OpenStudy (anonymous):
personificatio on the first line.
OpenStudy (anonymous):
love doth bite my tongue
OpenStudy (chasebraves):
ok anymore
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OpenStudy (anonymous):
ummm
OpenStudy (anonymous):
I think metaphor on "a rose is arrows" ask @rose21 she is good at these things
OpenStudy (chasebraves):
anymore @rose21
OpenStudy (rose21):
i really dont know i am not good with simile metaphor and personification :P
OpenStudy (anonymous):
me either sorry
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OpenStudy (chasebraves):
ok anymore @noneyabusiness
OpenStudy (chasebraves):
it can be any figurative languages
OpenStudy (anonymous):
hmmm.
OpenStudy (chasebraves):
yup
OpenStudy (anonymous):
maybe @skittlez13 can help
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