Inadequacy Poem by Thomas Ware

I want to make something beautiful.
I want to make somebody cry with joy.
But yet I fear I have no skill,
And work will not avail me in this void.
I look at all this art and poetry and love,
And I only see the things at which I fail.
I lose the game of life, and now I grieve,
Slowly,
I cannot cry no matter how much I try,
My eyes are dry, and this sorrow festers inside,
I am only good enough to recognize,
That am not as good as I would like.