The storm,blowing for third day, pulls ten-foot waves onto the seawall at the mouth of the sea. most of the waves break onto the wall, hurtling spray into the sea. A few, however, Roll over the embankment, breaking full force as they descend. The multi-ton barge clangs againststhe wooder pilings in the outer part of the sea. Sailboats masts swing from side to side; cruisers rock on their moorings. The wind yanks at the boats tearing them loose from the blocks and chains that link them to the sea floor.
This trip to Japan seems meaningless to me, and what is there for a poor girl like me? I always ask myself "why am I here?",I'd rather be in my mobile home with grandparents and maggie. I believe the world is an ugly place because I at last so poor. I remember when I had official became a poor person, during the summer when unicorns were still possible; when the purpose of knees was to be skinned; when string horsechetnuts(hollowed out fitted with straws crammed with tobacco stolen from butts in family ashtrays) were puffed in green lizard silence while stradding thick branches far above and away from the softening effects of civilization;during that summer which may never have been at all; but which has become more real then the one that was-watermelons ruled. Warm, balmy weather easily distracted students open windows,noise,summer breezes. Teachers lecturing bored students frustration; contest of lecture and outdoors sstudents interested in summer not the subject of discussion. Spinning frisbees and floating prom balloons in the courtyard outside-the students divest themselves of teachers. Teachers talk with them still; but their word neither spin nor fly. The beauty of languageof art dies before them while they live. Silver in the light, a leaf dances in the wind dreaming summer dreams, long strings of ivy quietly stretch their finger reaching for the peak. Beauty is unseen, in a clear blue river stream, fish hidden beneath.
I remember that summer really well, that was the summer I came home to a burnt down house. The house was engulf in flames, and my family running to safety. My grand-mother dress was flaking off in black pieces while her hair was enflamed buring like a thousand suns. My grandfather skin looked like uncooked barley pancakes and chicken half way done from cooking. My sister maggie dancing under the lollypop tree with her frilly pink dress watching that last piece of timber fall from the chimney.
Do you think this has any errors?
The storm, blowing for the third day, pulls ten-foot waves onto the sea wall at the mouth of the sea. Most of the waves break onto the wall, hurtling spray into the sea. A few, however, roll over the embankment, breaking full force as they descend. The multi-ton barge clangs against the the wooden pilings in the outer part of the sea. Sailboats' masts swing from side to side, cruisers rock on their moorings. The wind yanks at the boats, tearing them loose from the bloacks and chains that link them to the sea floor.
This trip to Japan seems meaningless to me and what is there for a poor girl like me? I always ask myself, "why am I here?". I'd rather be in my mobile home with my grandparents and Maggie. I believe the world is an ugly place because I was at last so poor. I remember when I had officially become a poor person, during the summer when unicorns were still possible, when the purpose of knees was for them to be skinned, when string horse chestnuts (hollowed out, fitted with straws crammed with tobacco, stolen from butts in family ashtrays) were puffed in green lizard silence whilst straddling thick branches far above and away from the softening effects of civilization. During that summer which may never have been at all, but which has become more real than the one that was watermelons ruled. Warm, balmy weather easily distracted students. Open windows, noise, summer breezes. Teachers lecturing bored students frustration, contest of lecture and outdoors, students interested in summer, not the subject of discussion. Spinning frisbees and floating prom balloons in the courtyard outside, the students divest themselves of teachers. Teachers talk with them still, but their words neither spin nore fly. The beauty of language, of art dies before them while they live. Silver in the light, a leaf dances in the wind dreaming summer dreams, long strings of ivy quietly stretch, their fingers reaching for the peak. Beauty is unseen, in a clear blue stream, fish hidden beneath.
I remember that summer really well, that was the summer I came home to a burnt down house. The house was engulfed in flames, my family running to safety. My grandmother's dress was flaking off in black pieces, while her hair was aflame, burning like a thousand suns. My grandfather's skin looked like uncooked barley pancakes and chicken half cooked. My sister maggie dancing under the lollipop tree with her frilly pink dress, watching that last piece of timber fall from the chimney.
Do you think this has any errors?
long...
im too lazy to read it all sorry
Do you think this has any errors?
yes.
Do you think this has any errors?
no. maybe. i dont feel like reading
Do you think this has any errors?
no, it is brilliant!!!! GReat Job!!!!
Do you think this has any errors?
no its good send it in
Do you think this has any errors?
waay too long
Do you think this has any errors?
very long lol but no it doesnt!
Do you think this has any errors?
The capitalization, grammar, spelling, punctuation, etc. are way off. Run it through a spelling/grammar checker like the one included in Microsoft Word or, if you don't have Word, try OpenOffice(it's free--http://www.openoffice.org/). Good luck.
Do you think this has any errors?
Sure has. It probably has an example of the majority of errors that people make.
Do you think this has any errors?
Yes, it does. I only read the first two sentences and could take no more.
I'd be happy to proofread this for you but I really think you should take it to your school's writing center. They can give you the time and attention necessary, while I can't.
Do you think this has any errors?
MULTIPLE ERRORS. did u want them listed?
Do you think this has any errors?
you really expect me to read that?????
Do you think this has any errors?
No offense, but.......theres a HUGE NUMBER OF ERRORS in there. I mean, I counted 10 within skimming it. Keep working.
Do you think this has any errors?
mouth of the sea.most
mouth of the sea.Most
Do you think this has any errors?
alright. but i dont get it.... a lollipop tree? and by the way lollipop not lollypop.
Do you think this has any errors?
Yes, it has many errors in the correct use of the English Language, Spelling and Punctuation.
Do you think this has any errors?
About 19 to 20 errors. I lost count.
Do you think this has any errors?
The storm,(space after comma)blowing for third day....(capital m)most of the...A few, however,(no capital r) Roll over...barge clangs againsts(space here)the...grandparents and (capitalize names)maggie...horsechetnuts(what's this??)...while stradding(this is not a word)... civilization;(space here)during...more real then(suppose to be than)...outdoors sstudents(only one s)...windows,noise,summer breezes(spaces after comma)...beauty of language(space here)of... hair was enflamed(comma here and suppose to be burning) buring like a thousand...My sister(again, capital m and maggie is suppose to be surrounded my commas--it's an appositive) maggie dancing...those are all the errors i found...you're welcome=D
Do you think this has any errors?
YOU DO HAVE MISTAKES, RUN ON SENTENCE, I CHECKED AND CORRECTED SOME THAT I FOUND GOOD LUCK
The storm, blowing for the third day, pulls ten-foot waves to the seawall. Most of the waves break, hurtling spray into the sea. A few, however, roll over the embankment, breaking full force as they descend.
A Multi-ton barge clangs against the wooden pilings in the outer part of the sea. Sailboat masts swing from side to side; cruisers rock on their moorings. The wind yanks at the boats tearing them loose from the blocks and chains that link them to the sea floor.
This trip to Japan seems meaningless to me, and what is there for a poor girl like me? I always ask myself "why am I here?閳?I閳ユ獓 rather be in my mobile home with grandparents and Maggie. I believe the world is an ugly place because I have become so poor. I remember when I had officially became a poor person, during the summer when unicorns were still possible; when the purpose of knees were to be skinned; when string horsechetnuts (hollowed out fitted with straws crammed with tobacco stolen from butts in family ashtrays) were puffed in green lizard silence while straddling thick branches far above and away from the softening effects of civilization; during that summer which may never have been at all; but which has become more real then the one that was-watermelons ruled. Warm, balmy weather easily distracted students open windows, noise, summer breezes. Teachers lecturing bored students frustration; contest of lecture and outdoors students interested in summer not the subject of discussion. Spinning Frisbees and floating prom balloons in the courtyard outside-the students divest themselves of teachers. Teachers talk with them still; but their word neither spin nor fly. The beauty of language of art dies before them while they live. Silver in the light, a leaf dances in the wind dreaming summer dreams, long strings of ivy quietly stretch their finger reaching for the peak. Beauty is unseen, in a clear blue river stream, fish hidden beneath.
I remember that summer really well, that was the summer I came home to a burnt down house. The house was engulfing in flames and my family running to safety. My grand-mother dress was flaking off in black pieces while her hair was enflamed burning like a thousand suns. My grandfather skin looked like uncooked barley pancakes and chicken half way done from cooking. My sister Maggie dancing under the lollypop tree with her frilly pink dress watching that last piece of timber fall from the chimney.
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