<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=511504" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Quasimodo</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The taxi slowed at the lights<br>and I spotted her.<br>Our paths crossed again, <br>for just a short time.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For warmth, <br>she'd wrap up in newspaper, <br>shuffling by, <br>rummaging through bins.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If you spoke to her, <br>she'd scurry off, <br>in short, stilted steps, <br>my little Quasimodo. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">All bent she'd <br>glance, sideways, <br>scared, but defiant, <br>swearing at you, cursing</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Bloody bitch'<br>What d'you want eh! <br>What d'you want? '<br>and edge backwards.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On winter days I'd see her <br>in the café.<br>She'd trundle in <br>for scraps and solace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Cup of tea? ' they'd say, <br>she'd never answer, <br>just grab the cup <br>and hurry away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her hands were callused, <br>her long, fingernails, dirty<br>her back, stooped, <br>that little hump, so sad.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'd give her a few coins, <br>so that she'd cheer up, <br>but often I worry <br>that's how I'll end up.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ruth+Walters">Ruth Walters</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=511504" data-title="Quasimodo de Ruth Walters" data-description="The taxi slowed at the lights and I spotted her. Our paths crossed again, for just a short time. For warmth, she'd wrap up in newspaper, shuffling by, rummaging through bins. If you spoke to her, she'd scurry off, in short, stilted steps,..."></div> </div> </div>

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