I was climbing up a mountain-path
With many things to do,
Important business of my own,
And other people’s too,
When I ran against a Prejudice
That quite cut off my view.
So I spoke to him politely,
For he was huge and high,
And begged that he would move a bit
And let me travel by.
He smiled, but as for moving! –
He didn’t even try.
And then I begged him on my knees;
I might be kneeling still
If so I hoped to move that mass
Of obdurate ill-will –
As well invite the monument
To vacate Bunker Hill!!
So I sat before him helpless,
In an ecstasy of woe –
The mountain mists were rising fast,
The sun was sinking slow –
When a sudden inspiration came,
As sudden winds do blow.
I took my hat, I took my stick,
My load I settled fair,
I approached that awful incubus
With an absent-minded air –
And I walked directly through him,
As if he wasn’t there!
by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Charlotte Perkins Gilman also wrote The Yellow Wallpaper – a semi-autobiographical account of her struggle with postpartum psychosis. She was an advocate for the suffragist movement and also wrote non-fiction, most notably, The Home: Its work and influence, an expansion on her previous work, published in 1898, Women and Economics: A study of the economic relation between women and men as a factor in social evolution.
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