Cramped in those yellow walls of her kitchen,

she craves freedom from that prison.

She looks out of her grilled window from day-to-day

and yearns to fly like a Blue-Jay.


From morning till daybreak

she is confined within a domestic realm,

and fulfills the role of a

good wife and mother unacknowledged.


Anger, pain, despondency, madness

slithers out from her across the

beautiful four-walled yellow kitchen.


Each day passes

the bright, yellow kitchen

seems to lose all its brightness.


The greasy black soot from the old chimney starts

spreading slowly

across the wall, bit by bit,

trying to swallow up the brilliant yellow;

waiting to engulf the wretched woman too

into the mystery of blackness.

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