Im sure that I'll always be A lonely number like root three.
The three is all that good in right,
why must my 3 keep out of sight
beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I where nine
For 9 could thwart this evil trick
with just some quick arithmetic
I know ill 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
as quietly co-waltzing by,
together now we multiply
to prepare 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
your love for me has been renued.
"original author of the poem is DAVID FEINBERG - the square root of three"
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