Here's an interesting question for you, Garrett S Sexton: Do disableds have feelings? Or are they just soulless slabs of jellied meat with wheels attached?
The answer is in the poem you thickie. Now listen - noone cares about what your family have done. Poetry comes from within - it's not hereditary and you are very obnoxious to think that people enjoy your poetry. You haven't even got the decency or the nails to give yourself an original pseudonym. The closest you will get to be a true poet is to die young tragically. There is something for you to achieve. But my little angel, other than that, smell you later. Ha ha. (ps only joking)
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