there's so much blood sweat and tears in this I just can't find what to say.
To be that raw and honest, and pour it in a poetic form...takes guts.
Most often we hide within our poetry, to some extent.
Ain't no place to hide in here.

I know I'm not supposed to, but...
fuck.

FUCK.

Glorious. Beautiful. Powerful.
I want another stanza about the woman who transformed your life, brother. Who is she, what is she, how did she.

God damn, I wish I could write like this.
Bookmarked.
Nominated.
Geez Wes, I don't even know what I'm nominating it FOR.
I don't care.
with the most sincerity I can offer,

This is inspiring to read.
Raw truth.
And to be able to be so honest about your life.
How long did it take to write, I guess as life, the poem keeps growing.
What is the form?
Amazing.
And thank you!

I took the liberty of playing around with the first verse. If you are happy for me to continue, please indicate if there is a particular direction I should keep in mind. Oh, and I have taken your advice about the mother poem.Thank you.

In Sacramento I was born too soon.
A premature those days was bound to die,
yet life had granted me a doubtful boon,
left me alone to live not knowing why.
But two pounds in the manger early June,
sans nails and ears stuck out as if to fly.
For thirteen years my parents had been wed,
at last to birth a creature better dead

OK, you asked for !
Only first half of stanza 1:

In Sacramento was I born too soon.
Those days a premature was bound to die,
yet somehow I was grant a doubtful boon
and left alone to live not knowing why.

My edit:

In Sacramento I was born too soon,
in days when Prematures were bound to die
yet somehow I was granted doubtful boon,
and left alone to live, not knowing why.

Meter is the same, (I think). Original Rhyme is left as is. new internal rhyme makes the lines flow together better, I think.
"Prematures" is not strictly a proper noun, but it works for meter, and for meaning.
You know I don't like re-writing other's poems.
Especially yours.
But, you insisted!
I am always a bit nervous, when I'm about to hit the save key on edits!
You know, after doing this, looking back, its the flow of the poem that seems to be the perceived problem.
Interesting.

Post the poem with a new name, make changes there.
Contact Tech support too, there may be a bug that they need to know about.

Keith and Jim have made some constructive criticism, as I sit down to make my own.
I am not familiar with the form, so having looked it up, I now have a slightly better understanding. Iambic pentameter with eight verses per stanza of ab,ab,ab,cc.
I'm not sure why you used this particular form though, other than as an exercise in disciplined writing, as traditionally it appears to have been used for heroic epics.
I think you are too constricted by this genre and consequently at times, too contrived. You become driven by the style, rather than let it work for you. You have also adopted a very antiquated turn of phrase which to my ears, adds to the at times, forced nature.
For example here:
' My sister came about that time next year.
A child of Elven loveliness ideal.
While seizures mine lade all the house with fear,
the daughter cooed in peace and grace surreal.'

First verse, modern English, uncontrived, easily understood.
Second, has links to other worldliness, but is ideal the right word here? - 'A child of Elven beauty quite surreal' also flows.
Third verse seems clumsy and in contrast with the language of the first.
Final verse, as I pinched surreal earlier, perhaps your sister could coo in peace and grace genteel or even ideal here. The idea being her beauty was surreal, whilst her disposition ideally delightful.
My take:
'My sister came about that time next year
A child of Elven beauty and of grace
Whilst I with fits, threw all the house in fear
Her coos and smiles marked only my disgrace. Or
Her coos and smiles lit up my darkened face.
As, you may not like the grace/disgrace rhyme.

I have tried to make it a bit more approachable. You may not agree.
Here are two more lines I would tweek
'Today my world is paradise and blessed.
Unquestioned I yet struggle with my soul.
to
Today my world is paradise and blessed (no full stop)
Secure and yet I struggle with my soul.' reads a bit better to me, also it isn't unquestioned, you are questioning why you still struggle
There are lines in the poem I find quite wonderful - many in fact:
Depression never gives a man a rest, - so, true and will resonate with many. Don't think you need the comma though, it's followed by 'but' which technically makes the comma redundant.
Love this -
'The withered, mangled, witless human shell
would die inmost a veiled and lonely Hell' - wondered if that applied in contrast to your sisters physical charms.
This is also a great couplet
'‘Twas then they gave the diagnostic word,
but I refused to heed. Madmen demurred.'

I could go on, there are many strong features, but when all said and done I ask myself why?
Why write in this form, it constricts you and makes you write in an artificial way.
I know sometimes it's useful to adhere to a certain style for either discipline purposes or just experimentation - because you can. Also for educational reasons, it's important to know and understand different forms to grow as a poet but it is not the law, you can reinterpret and put your own stamp on.
What I would do now, is take this bio poem, keep many of the phrases, but rework into a more relaxed less contrived format and see what transpires.
Then that's me - and I'm not you.
I do admire the work and tenacity that has gone into this, don't think I am being negative. You asked what I thought and there you have it. Most people wouldn't even try to do this, assuming they had heard of an ottava rima - me included. it's impressive Wesley, very impressive.
Jx

you asked for critique of a poem that speaks of a perilous childhood and latter life that eventually took on the semblance of a happy one. Well, I'm not qualified to offer you my service as an editor. Those prior to my post have offered some suggestions, but again, I'm not qualified to judge those either. I like the format that seems perfect for telling your story in verse. If the poem feels stiff here and there, I guess that's the nature of the beast. I for one do not wish to put words into the mouth or pen of a writer who knows his business--as you, obviously, do. To use the well-worn cliche, " your first verse took me right in."
I was born 17 years short of a century (do the math) and had just about every childhood disease doctors can think of, but I survived. You are right, a 2 lb premature baby stood little chance at the time of your birth. Etc, Etc.
Your last verse speaks of a happy turn of events, and the fact that you still write suggests that everything has settled down in your life. Forgive me for failing to come up with suggestions such as how you should have written this unembellished story of your life. Great write! (Forgive my incoherent ramblings (just had my head examined due to an injury, lol).
Ali

I can't put two lines about my childhood, neither happy memories nor bad ones ( if ever found).