202308271554 This be the verse

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.

¹

A poem about the cycle of abuse, or more charitably maybe, how the foibles and idiosyncrasies of parents are thrust upon their children because they don't have a choice in the matter. The final stanza suggests that we should get out of the cycle and not have children of our own, but I'm not so sure I agree with that. I think I subscribe to the more optimistic viewpoint that 202411161434 Children are the greatest force of change.