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.