This Be the Verse

The fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in the old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's 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.

by Philip Larkin

I don't hold this poem up as any sort of grand declaration. In fact, I enjoy the fun spirit it brings to misery, which is a nice ironic twist on a description which is otherwise miserable.

I've been in a Larkin mood lately. There's more to come!