..Poem twenty four..

       This Be The Verse...

By Philip Larkin... additional lines by Derek H.

They fuck you up your mom 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 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.

They fuck you up the kids you had
They may not mean to but they do
Pouring guilt on their mum and dad
Saying you're some-one they never knew

But they'll be fucked up in their turn
By brats who won't wear threadbare coats
Who'll half the time refuse to learn
And half spent filling their throats

Man hands on misery to man
It deepens like a coastal shelf
Get out as early as you can
Return to being a kid yourself.

They fuck you up the dreams you had
They may not seem to but they do
Pouring guilt, good hidden by bad
Drowning in shame as they never flew

But dreams were fucked up long before
By 'Holy' men and men of books
Selling dreams to those unsure
'Cause freedom ain't the prize it looks

Man hands on misery to man
It deepens like a coastal shelf
Get out as early as you can....
But always be a dreamer yourself....

Not sure Philip would approve, but hey, he's dead.

KRO