With apologies for the language.
And this will be the last poem, for a while……
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And some extra , just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one anothers’ throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.