I fear that I will always be
A lonely number like root three
The three is all that's great and right
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign
I wish instead I were a nine
For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just a quick arithmetic
I know I'll never see a sum, as 1.7321
Such as my reality, a sad irrationality
When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three
Has quietly come waltzing by
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer
We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands
Our square root signs become unglued
The love for me has been renewed
A poem by our
paper writing service.
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