This Be The Chorus

By | 13 May 2024

after Philip Larkin

Like mine and yours before,
Theirs, and my own to come,
Our flow-on of flaws is more
Or less the root of the sum.

When faults are handed down,
Where can you lay the blame?
You end up making your own,
In turn, they spell out your name.

We’re fucked up after all,
Like a fool in an old-style hat.
Come, know what it is that you will
Die for; start living for that.

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