Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
He, the archdeacon, kept me a spectacle on his merry-go-round of splintered wood, whipped me into submission every chance she got. She was disgusted with my ugliness, but enlightened my soul with her kind-acts, she was my gypsy-lady, my lovely Esmeralda and I the bell-ringer of Notre Dame, her hunchback, broken & shamed & in love.
0
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
The Thoughts of Quasimodo
He, the archdeacon, kept me a spectacle on his merry-go-round of splintered wood, whipped me into submission every chance she got. She was disgusted with my ugliness, but enlightened my soul with her kind-acts, she was my gypsy-lady, my lovely Esmeralda and I the bell-ringer of Notre Dame, her hunchback, broken & shamed & in love.
jonny-angel
Written by
American
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem