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
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.