Under this stress,
Test and mess,
I'll buckle unless
I answer this:
What is focus?
When I'm at my lowest
And progress is slowest,
Through ferocious explosives,
Caught within the locus
Of bogus hypnosis,
Facing the atrocious diagnosis
And the hopeless prognosis,
I place myself on notice -
The notice to focus.
Have I been promised
Constant doses of roses?
When has ever been an opus
Apart from the art of focus?
Will I let the stressing
Take away my blessing?
Hocus Pocus?
Hocus Focus -
The magic of focus
So what is focus? Just this -
(F) aculty (O) f (C) reating (U) nder (S) tress
© Matt Decker
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem