I’m sure that I will always be,
A lonely number like root three,
The three is all that’s good 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 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
As quietly co-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,
Your love for me has been renewed.
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