The poem is a short warning about what happens to people who go along with power. Its title casts the figure as a stenographer, someone who writes down what the powerful say without adding anything of their own. The speaker says that anyone who conforms "will get bled," and then adds a strange, quiet twist: he will "get clear ink." The image suggests that the conformist is drained like a pen, and that what flows out of him is bland, transparent, and leaves no real mark.
The second stanza turns from warning to advice. The speaker would tell this person to love "the beautifulest hands" rather than "the pen." The odd, childlike word "beautifulest" makes the line feel tender. Judging by the imagery, the hands might stand for living people or the work of making things, while the pen is just a tool of service. The mood is calm but pointed: gentle on the surface, with a sharp worry underneath about losing yourself.