I wrote a poem around the time when all of this started. I submitted it to a poetry competition, but I've just been notified it didn't advance, so I guess I'll post it here. It's inspired by Philip Larkin's This Be The Verse, and I wrote it in about 15 minutes one morning when I woke up early. Someone I love once told me that was their favourite poem, but I don't think they had read the whole thing.
Actually, Philip, This Be The Verse
They do their best, your mum and dad.
It may not seem it, but they do.
Even when they treat you bad,
Someone taught them to be cruel.
We've all been fucked up in our turn.
We've all been jammed in ill-fit moulds.
And someone did their best by them,
Told them when they were good or bold.
It's not just misery we pass.
It's not just men who pass it down.
Just add what kindness that you can,
When it's your turn to wear the crown.