Focus

Is a sparkle that starts with in the mind.
When one is in the decisional line.
To follow it with distinct care.
Even through hell one will still bare.

The eyes can't take from it, its glance.
Because it must be hundled as a glass.
Even though it's no more fun.
An eye of courage can make it more pan.

The mouth speaks of its adventure.
It becomes a song without surrender.
For the sake of touching it.
One must not stop praying a bout it.

Focus, is the ability of the body and the mind to concentrate and sharpen an idea or being.

Emmanuel Boniface Bona Peter
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 10/25/2020

Poet's note: Focusing is not hard as people think.
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