Now write upon the wall a sonnet; thereNext to the woman trappeed in paper,s doom.This place may be bare, but look, she is there-
squeezed out by the boundaries of this room.
feel fear's gentle and embracing caress,
In the lines that are so few to adhere.
The poet knows the ever-nagging stress
Of thd forms confines that glaringly sneer
In the face of bold creativity.
Now see beyond what the paper sees:
Give in and foster fancy fantasies.
Yet what fool indulges this insanity? He corrupts himself to yellow wallpaper,
Trappedw within margins of misconception.