The Invalid

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And what if, like me,

you are an invalid,

can't do it,

whatever 'it' is,

whatever the rest do

with such seeming ease,

unthinkingly;

and you live at home

with your ma and pa

even though 

you're an 'adult'

and they never let you 

forget

that you owe them

for the roof over your head,

for the food you eat,

for the bed where you sleep, 

for the clothes you wear,

for the constant care,

and that you stand 

to inherit

from your cripple's seat

on wheels,

everything

they have, 

down

to their resentment.