The Poem Identity by Julio Noboa

They are similar in many ways, so they all share the same boundary. Polanco is a person who wants to be abandoned and does not like borders. On the other hand, other plants, such as famous, can not pay much attention to their business, you can make fun of other types of plants, including purple stripes through it or death and attachment similar to wrinkles I will. This is an aspect of ugly plants that are more selective and treated than other plants.

Its identity has unique character and unique quality, and Julio Noboa Polanco expressed in his poetry "identity". Noboa compares two plants, weeds and flowers. He refers to the flowers around him, and they care about how they look in society. And they are treated by others and can not live freely. On the other hand, weeds, he said that he was a source of weeds, a source of loyalty to himself (loyalty to himself), but even if he is ugly, he wants that and is free . Personally, as a teenager, I can guarantee more flowers on that day than weeds. People strongly hope that society can claim to be another person who is not loyal to themselves, and some people want to change smoking, drinking, dressing ways I will.

What sort of theme or deep meaning did you see in this poem? The title gives us a clue: 'identity'. Julio Noboa, many people can find their identity in others' minds - their beauty may even be their talent - but he has his own power and freedom I want to find it. I admire others. In a broader or more general sense, this poem has a theme we call "personal and social". Finally, let's see Shakespeare's play "Macbeth". Mrs Macbeth is ambitious and truly manipulates her husband to kill Duncan King. She is anxious for power. However, her guilty conscience eventually led to the loss of her reason. We saw her sleepwalking disease and tried to clear the imagination blood from her hand. The theme may be "good and bad" or "never pay crime".

"Identity" Julio Noboa Polanco always makes water, feeds, protects, admires, but makes flowers like those used for dirty mountains. Rather, I would like to become a tall, ugly weed which adhered to the cliffs like an eagle rocking above a high rough rock. To crush the surface of the stone, please live, spread the exposure, feel the eternal sky madness. It is ruled by my soul, my seeds, the mountains beyond time, or the ancient ocean breeze that leads to a strange abyss. Rather than becoming a pleasant flower growing in a fertile valleys flock where we are admired, treated and chosen by greedy human hands, I would not want to see it unless everyone is unavoidable. It is not a sweet scented clove, but it smells a musty green scent. If I can stand up strongly and freely by myself, I would rather like to make tall, ugly weeds.