My lines were much run-on ,in a poem
Ending elsewhere, straying in its paths,
Metaphors interfering in central theme.
Let my thoughts be steadfast like a poet,
His head unchanging on a lover’s breast
But unlike north star in stellar isolation.
North star watches priest-like ablutions
On shores of human condition on earth
On an entirely cold hands-off approach.
No ,we say to enjambments or run-on’s
And stick to our clipped lines in format
And no hands-off on human condition.
(Referring to a poem “Bright Star! Would I were steadfast as thou art” by John Keats)