this isn't really a poem, I'm not sure what it is, but there's no "Random" category, so that'll have to do.

All the heartache we sustain
from the oblivious ones;
why can't we love 
those who'll love us back? 

Granted, we don't know who they are,
but, if we did, we wouldn't try.
If all we want is what we can't have,
we're human, but we're not happy.

No matter how we convince ourselves,
happiness is liking what you get.

What have you got?
People say you can't see past the end of your nose...

You're seeing too far; check the bridge.