Pi

until the decimal of pi runs out.

3.14159

I love thee until the decimals of pi runs out.

I never give up till the revolutions come to an end.

We live in constant circle,

where in center is ourselves,

circumference is our journey,

and the segments are the paths.

Tangents and secants intersect the center,

Theorems and computations are formed,

Represents as the various daily basis,

it's upon us of how we solve the area.

Diameter times the pi equals the journey,

Change is permanent, like the integers in the Greek symbol,

Then the value tends to be powerful, as the road we drive in,

The bigger the largest chord, the more successful number of events to come.

Author's Note

Another poem about math by yours truly...