Quasimodo
Bells toll again by deformed man
Hands wrap themselves on rope that strand
A lonely soul up high on perch
Forsaken face hidden in church
He swings himself from Gargoyle face
To higher ground, a favorite place
Where he gawks unseen by one
Obscured by both, darkness and Sun
His laugh drowns out what some will say
Of him who knows not time of day
For innocence runs like a child
In one who lives alone and wild
His love for her tied by taboos
As well the sounds of his coos
Fall on deaf ears pierced by Gold
Esmeralda is she he'd wish to hold
Dumb is what some call this fool
With heart toyed with and drowns in pools
Of tears His own who'll never be
The man he wished that she would see
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