The only way round is through.
You, of course, are a rose-- But were always a rose.
We cannot tell some people what it is believe, partly because they are too stupid to understand, partly because we are too proudly vague to explain.
Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.
A definite purpose, like blinders on a horse, inevitably narrows its possessor's point of view.
A poem begins with a lump in the throat; a homesickness or a love sickness. It is a reaching-out toward expression; an effort to find fulfillment. A complete poem is one where an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.