I've never been a big fan of poetry. It's beautiful, but I don't have the patience to figure out what it means. I usually just end up frustrated and can't be bothered by it. Mr. Philip Larkin, on the other hand, is very straightforward. I like his style and disillusionment with the world. This poem is my favorite. I think it's very insightful.
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 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.
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