Two circles surrounding a square
Was more than the poor thing could bear
It made itself fetal
‘Til planar was hedral
Cylindrical nets are a snare!
Isometry! Great celebration!
But tragedy followed elation,
When off of the grid
The image got slid.
The pre-image, lost in translation.
A circle can hardly afford
To argue with segments, good Lord!
When a disc meets a line
It is far more refined
When instead it is seeking a chord.
With a triangle right and scalene
(Or isosceles, isn’t that keen?)
The height of the hunk
Is the root of the chunks
As a product… not to be mean.
Pythagoras (“Fred” to his crew)
Was found fretting the square root of two.
They said, “Here’s a theorem,”
But he couldn’t quite hear ’em
Since Fred was irrational, too.
A line’s a collection of points
That is endless and lacking in joints.
If you give it a bend
Or give it an end,
This results in you losing some points.
Ray Charles, Ray Parker got praise
Their duets were starting a craze
On heavy rotation
Throughout all the nation
Their angle? A merging of rays.