Arithmathic Love

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 kept out of sight.

Beneath a vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I was a nine,
For nine could work this evil trick,
With just some quick arithmetic.

I know I’ll never see the sun,
As 1.7321,
Such as my reality,
A sad irrationality.

When hark, what is this I see,
Another square root of a three,
Is quietly come waltzing by,
Together now we multiply,
To form a number that we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer.

We break free from our mortal bonds,
And with a wave of a magic wand,
Our square root sign become unglued,
And love, for me, has been renewed.