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)