A recent conversation with kleinbl00 here about abusive parenting brought this poem to mind. Queen Elizabeth II offered, the author, Philip Larkin, the position of poet laureate in 1984, but he turned it down.
This Be The Verse
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They fill you with the faults they had
They may not mean to, but they do.
But they were fucked up in their turn
And add some extra, just for you.
Who half the time were soppy-stern
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Man hands on misery to man.
And half at one another's throats.
Get out as early as you can,
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
And don't have any kids yourself.
A large part of me considers this frequently.