Frailty of Focus

Frailty of Focus

To focus on my work or write a verse?
A question far more pertinent to me
Than whether I should be or should not be
For if I'm not, my prospects are no worse.
Existence therefore may be just a curse
A cudgel waved to force my industry
No briefest break for pause or poetry
From cradle till I ride off in my hearse.
Perhaps a better way to frame this choice
To ascertain direction for my day
Is whether I am likely to rejoice
When weary body in my bed I lay.
Will I look back and rue the nagging voice,
Or will I grin and wave the nag away?



Written for, or at least inspired by, the The Not-So-Daily Poem , because what is a day without poetry?

A Petrarchan sonnet is 14 lines long, usually in iambic pentameter with a rhyme scheme of abbaabba for the first octave (8 lines), then a slight switch of subject or focus and also rhyme scheme for the final sestet (6 lines). There are a few different schemes for the final sestet, but I went with cdcdcd.