The Yellow Wallpaper

The room wherein I now reside,

has something weird on its wall aside

That wallpaper, which I now see 

has been here for ages just like that old tree.

It is all pale, ugly, yellowish and dirty

But there is something within,

that not all eyes can see.

Everybody thinks, it is the wallpaper that will cure my pain.

But now I feel it's all in vain.

I wish I could tell people around,

that may be now I look fine,

deep down I'm sick and enduring the strains ;

which I'm sure words can never define.

I lie hopelessly and stare the wall,

the patterns on the wallpaper are completely flawed.

Some straight, some crooked, some colourless and incomplete patterns that I see,

shows how artists in those days were so carefree.

Every day and night I follow the same routine 

and look at the wall,

so that I could complete those patterns and give an answer to all.

As many days have now passed,

Now I finally see something more in it

I see the image of a women in the wallpaper,

moving in the daylight and subsiding in the moonlight.

That woman, I suppose is not seen to all.

But now I see her everywhere.

Roaming freely, dancing and breathing

leaving behind her own shadow

which had always kept her confined.

That woman in the wallpaper is me,

I am she,

who has always kept herself restricted to the four walls ,

under the strains of patriarchy,

and it is because of which; 

I am facing this mental distress.

Just like her,

I should leave my shadow behind,

to find out my existence which the world has failed to remind .

Perhaps this was the cure, everybody was looking for.

And I'm glad that it helped me to grow and mature.

A woman after all deserves to be free

and this is a discourse to which men would never agree.