She beats upon her bolted door, <br />With faint weak hands; <br />Drearily walks the narrow floor; <br />Sullenly sits, blank walls before; <br />Despairing stands. <br /> <br />Life calls her, Duty, Pleasure, Gain– <br />Her dreams respond; <br />But the blank daylights wax and wane, <br />Dull peace, sharp agony, slow pain– <br />No hope beyond. <br /> <br />Till she comes a thought! She lifts her head, <br />The world grows wide! <br />A voice–as if clear words were said– <br />'Your door, O long imprisonéd, <br />Is locked inside!'<br /><br />Charlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/locked-inside-7/
