Seeing Clearly

I think I'm good at nothing

And that I'll always fail

Yet find that I succeed the most

When I just weave a tale.

I love to think of things

That I would long to get

And dream up special places

Where I can finally fit

To place upon a world so dark

Just a tiny bit of gleam

To paint a pretty picture

Displayed in bright sunbeam

Too many feel so lost

And have nowhere to reside

I long to make little home

For those castoffs to hide

We spend so much attention

On things that cause us fear

Why not choose to be better

And make things we hold dear