Quasimodo in weeping anguish of heart
Alone in cathedral bell-tower
Despised for twisted hunchback ugliness
Needs the ecstasy of a woman’s love
But knows he will never father a child
Nor kiss sweet lips of true love.
Deformed, limping ugliness sublime
Children flee in screaming terror
Dogs howl at his grotesque shape
Limping miserably from place to place
Trying to hide among the shadows
Face turned towards the darkness.
He swings clinging to the great bell
Deaf to her thunderous peals
And for a brief moment of happiness
Forgets the agonies of a loveless life
Spirit soaring free as a dove over Paris.
Colin Ian Jeffery
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hunchback-of-notre-dame/
