This Be The Verse... Stop. (With a twisted ending)
Rewritten:
by Miranda Holland,
Original by Philip Larkin
They screwed us up, our mom and dad.
They may not have meant to, but they did not stop.
Instead, mom just let all the boiling trauma brew,
like a lasting, mountainous! mean and green; toxic lava stew.
One, two, and three; Him, her, and then me.
They drilled us with the same faulty cycle,
they both pretended they each never genuinely had.
And dad added some extra breaks, just out of the blue.
Then blamed Sin for every single visible bruise,
as he shamed each fear-drop on-- little "mental" Michael too.
Its true! Our parents are shackled to
their birth by their manipulated roots,
but that does not excuse;
what they did not break free from, to try and do.
Twisted by silent suckers in flannel and steel-toed-boots.
There was not much peace to be found,
those times were a select few.
Our parents were constantly at
one another's clutched, red throats.
They always
throw their past pain
at us,
sending it flying-- through
the frosty air.
Flinging their cud willy-nilly,
a thundercloud of ice
appearing out of extreme anger.
Not realizing they are both completely
crushing all our individual dreams,
slowly killing all of our
already dying and bleeding,
shallow breathing-hope.
They just hurt us again and again
and watch with a prickly pin as it floats... Pop!
Violently leaving all of their innocent children
in the same haunting danger.
Its true! Our parents passed on
their drama to us, to the world.
It still crawls into the black darkness
like our fragile bodies cowering
behind our black leather couch.
even now I can feel us all,
still quivering as we did back then.
silently breathing
to preserve our physical health.
Please for your families own sake,
do not ever grow up to be
this tough!!
do not remain blinded
to the light of care
like these rough
cowardly numb women
or strong unaffectionate men.
And if you do
become lucky enough
to conceive children
together.
Drop the pin!
Know your time not your money,
is most important
to their future wealth.
Stop to teach them as a trusted friend,
Everything they could Ever Imagine!!!
Please just Stop to condition them,
strengthen them unconditionally,
Stop. And set your family free,
gliding through crystal skies eternally.
If you believe you can,
please Flee from the old broken limbs.
Climb up high through the old soul
of the cold weeping tree,
if you
absolutely must!
To see
where you can
stop.
