Mathdatawords

Tue, 02/24/2015 - 21:27 -- aling88

Location

Without the filters,

I become the filter of what I want my life to be.

I don’t care who you are or what you say-

but the digits of pi mean everything to me.

Newton, Nietzsche, and da Vinci make a wonderful pi,

a Pi that I’ll eat with rhubarb and spice.

I’ll laugh and call it a tart while you

mock and call it an abomination.

Who cares about data, who cares about words?

Words are everything in the line of work;

They make my graphs alive and my art burst

They help me live and describe the wurst.

I will eat all the horns you direct at me

and laugh at their unsatisfactory texture.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741