By Judy Nathanson
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Some part of their genetic code is programmed to feel pain
When anything is seen or heard outside of the mundane

Imagination doesn't fit inside the master mold
In fact, there isn't anything inside, if truth be told!

And so outward appearances are all that get a nod
The whole of their "humanity" is no more than facade

They value superficial things that cash alone can buy
And could not reach beyond their nose, and wouldn't even try

The patriarch will push his weight around, and all for show
His son is several big chips off the block from head to toe

His wife bears no resemblance to her sister who has died
She could not walk in Lily's shoes, even if she tried

A tiny room, old worn-out clothes, no joy, no love, no frills
Is all their orphaned nephew gets, save for the talk of drills

If muggle prototypes abound in colors sharp and bright
The Dursleys contrast all the lot in blazing black and white

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