once upon a time


I have a granddaughter called Amber.
She should've been stolen at birth.
But,unlike Esmeralda, she wasn't.
Wee girl Amber is beautiful, even looks like lady GaGa.
Okay, stretching it a bit, she doesn't have a hunchback lover.

The bell tower she hides out in is her bedroom.
It's a very tidy place.
Now if you believe that then you'd believe anything..
Amber goes to school, comes home and heads to her tower.
Maybe she hears a bell ring out. Then again who knows?
Esmeralda has her own way of thinking same as all wee girls.
Now and again she comes down the stairs.
That's only when the bell rings or she hears a yell, 'its teatime Amber'.

Now the reason I call her Esmeralda is because she's beautiful.
Just as Victor Hugo describes his Esmeralda.
I hope she doesn't end up hanged as we all know teenagers are nuts.
Maybe her mother will up swinging for her. I hope not.
That's my tale of Amber and why I call her Esmeralda.

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