Pottersville

We all live in Pottersville,

  just beyond Potter’s Hill.

Working in Potter’s Mill,

  lunching on Potter’s swill.

Life is grand in Pottersville,

  so long as we all serve his will.

Potter’s values he’ll instill,

  and we all will pay the bill.

Snow blows past the window sill,

  as we feel the drafty chill.

Prospects looking kinda’ nil,

  in our shack in Pottersville.

Potter always gets his will,

  o’er the folks in Pottersville.

Poverty is a bitter pill,

  with Mr. Potter, that’s the drill.

We will not our dreams fulfill,

  while we’re stuck in Pottersville.

LDT December 22, ‘22

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