When Focus Feels Foreign

I stopped and entertained a present thought

And could say I hosted my present moment

for a moment or two

I watched feebly as my own brazen presence

stupefied my senses 

and my mind briskly turned within and withdrew 

I feel desultory as I supervise my focus

collapse

I supplicate and solicit for my moments

to come back 

Therein, rattling is my mind..

My brain belabors and stretches on every side..

Reverberating bursts, foreign to me,

exist and harbor within no coast of mine 

My mind resolves as disabling my moments 

which comply to surrender 

and resign 

My mind, now in pain, seeks for itself to run 

and it hides

Frankly, I admire a mind

I want it to reciprocate 

all fervent and ambitious strides I take 

in what I implore for it to implicate

What separates me from my moments? 

My 

self? My 

mind? My

focus? My drive? 

When my focus feels foreign

so do I