Math is supposed to be the most
Real thing you learn.
So is English.
Then, why is there a never-ending
Plethora of imaginary numbers?
And why are there specific ways
We must write,
Loops and loops
Of neverending perplexity.
Or,
Maybe I don't like math,
And I'm trying to find something to rhyme about.
At least this one will be relatable,
And not controversial.
YOU ARE READING
As Time Slows Around Us [Poetry]
PoetryAs complicated as time itself, like the silent conversations with the moon and sun, lie the complexity of the screaming but silent thoughts of the stars. "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." ...
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