This is...

The chances which we take are to no avail,
Hurtful notions scold the small,
And burn the toes of those
Who stand tall among the rest.
But who will help the failures of the willing
That can only love themselves,
Ignoring the individuals who chose to love them,
And are never seen.

To this will the understanding know,
By this pen I shall write
Hoping to hold what can only be told
“A flawed society to which I have loved.”