This Be The Verse

Philip Larkin

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.

Next 10 Poems

• Philip Larkin : This Is The First Thing
• Philip Larkin : To Failure
• Philip Larkin : To My Wife
• Philip Larkin : To Put One Brick Upon Another
• Philip Larkin : Toads
• Philip Larkin : Toads Revisited
• Philip Larkin : Traumerei
• Philip Larkin : Triple Time
• Philip Larkin : Vers De Societe
• Philip Larkin : Wants

Previous 10 Poems

• Philip Larkin : The Whitsun Weddings
• Philip Larkin : The Trees
• Philip Larkin : The Spirit Wooed
• Philip Larkin : The School In August
• Philip Larkin : The Old Fools
• Philip Larkin : The North Ship
• Philip Larkin : The Mower
• Philip Larkin : The Little Lives Of Earth And Form
• Philip Larkin : The Importance Of Elsewhere
• Philip Larkin : The Explosion