No, Mr Generic, you're not right.

The answer is pi over four.

Pi over four, can't you see?

Stop telling me the answer is pi over three,

Stop telling me you know what's correct.

You may have taught for nine years,

But that does not make you a master of math,

A compendium of knowledge,

Smarter than me.

You act so smug, as if you had

Created all of mathematics yourself.

But you didn't.

I may be younger, with less experience,

Fewer sights seen, a limited view of

The world and the way in which it functions,

But that does not blind me

From the truth, Mr.s Generic.

I have something over you, and

There is nothing you can do.