Is this a published poem? Or, how would I find out?

Life has many problems, as we are all well aware,

If only it were as simple as calculating the root of a square.

Love triangles for starters, where passions are burning.

In books and in plays, these are always re-occurring,

It's easy for the pi-ous to say steer well clear of those,

As countless stand alone in their columns and rows.

Life is a journey which seems to shape and divide us,

A multitude of experiences with a plus or a minus.

There's no set of rules, theres's no equations to follow,

On the lateral plane of yesterday, today and tomorrow.

We amass certain values for reasons unknown,

We try to make order from the facts we are shown.

From the points of a compass to the time of the day,

Figures are important and show us the way.

But they do not give us meaning, or plot us a course,

With co-ordinates to use, from the end to the source.

There's is an infinite realm of possibility and choice,

Why are we here? We exclaim with one voice...