The Square Root of Three

And alas, the Taiwan trip has come to an end. It has been an interesting trip in many senses of the word. But one of the most memorable things was ironically watching Harold and Kumar escape from Guantanamo Bay 1.5 times. With it, the beautiful poem:

The Square Root of Three

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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Lovely.