I fear that I will always be A lonely number like root three. A three is all that’s good and right...
Why must my three keep out of sight. Beneath a vicious square root sign.....
I wish instead I were a nine. For nine could thwart this evil trick with just some quick arithmetic.....
I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321. Such is 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.....
And with a wave of magic wands, our square root signs become unglued. And love for me has been renewed...
