I am the absoutlete value of myself,
I am postive,
Unless it is a Monday.
I am less than her,
but equal to you,
mostly.
I am unable to be simplified,
I am just too odd.
I'm irrational,
I cannot be squared off.
She's a perfect a square,
Rational,
But not.
I think I miscaculated,
I think you are equal,
and I am my own equation,
and need to go back to were I was,
Unsolved,
Barely tried,
Unthinkable,
Unknown,
On my own green chalfboard.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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