No. 93

Dragons stand guard. Treasures aplenty down below
Tinsel covers wands above, big and small, thick and hollow.
Learn at once, every boy and girl that set foot on its ground
The great wand chooses its master, not the other way round.
If   droughts in your mouth persist, a draught of butterbeer
Is the neatest fix; pumpkin juice if you think cool is queer.

Tell me, are you the kind that likes to pull pranks?
And  fear little to alliterate, step in, march those shanks
No.93 Weasley's Wizard Wheezes has the raddest ploys
"Here he comes, the officer. Shhh" - well, we only sell toys.
So, my friend you do now see, there's no other place you'd rather be.

Abracadabra

All our lives, we chase a dream, a fantasy
Built up since the day we start to remember, we start to see
Rains can't keep us, and the clouds can't hide
And our grounded feet won't be any reason our desires will slide.
Casts, spells, and wands filled our childhood tales each night
And we long our entire lives searching for magic, that divine light.
Does singlemindedness really help? I wonder,
Archers' set their eyes on a prize, disregarding aplenty yonder
Books and poems and art are our time machines and summoning tricks
Rousseau and Dali in the 2100's, or yourself in the 2300's, in a matter of clock ticks
And don't get me started on man - the biggest wonder of them all - weaves magic all around, yet feels so small.

Pay first. Eat later.

In a galaxy far, far away
Or a different corner of the Milky Way
Sits a food joint on some lonely planet
Where you pay up first for your meal, only then have it.
Not very queer, not unheard of. In fact, most common
But what if you didn't choose the meal, and the waiter brought his favourite ramen.
A block away, you tread along, to find a clothing store
But your clothes you take only after, your wallet they take before.
And in this town, the infants start at a prison facility
For crimes they've not committed yet, but crimes their lives will be.
All this might sound to you, rather very strange
But think for once what you give your children apart from a funny name
You choose for them so much, so much they do not know
And hold them up for ransom when your beard's white as snow
Parenthood seems to be passing on a debt they never chose to take
You hand them a bill for a mess they did not even make
You pick their schools, you buy them things, and condition them too
And then they grow up to owe a debt when they'd rather reset, start anew.