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)


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