Do you live your whole life
  in a partially filled space

Do you swear up and down
  about reasons defaced

Do you sing in a choir
  where the music has died

Do you brand all as liars
  as your knots remain tied

Do you rob from the master
  just to steal from the slave

Do you live in a mansion
  built on top of your grave

Do you look for direction
  on trails hollow and thin

Does your soul beg correction
  torn away from within

Do you begin every sentence
  tracing back to the past

Do you live every moment
—writing checks you can’t cash

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2016)