These poems I’m posting are based on famous verses, this one by Larkin
Contradicting The Curmudgeon
(This be the verse, Philip Larkin)
They fuck you up your mum and dad
So said that old contrarian
But Larkin’s error is just so sad
The poor deluded librarian.
It’s glib and cheap to blame your folks
For all the crap that life throws out;
To say ‘It’s not my fault’ is jokes
However much you scream and shout.
And if you feel that out you’ve lucked
With the only life you’ll ever live
Because, perchance, they’ve up you fucked
Isn’t it about time to them forgive?