# Pi: A Poem

I am pi,

16th among the greek letters i stand;

If you are too certain of my start and end,

Wager and bet; in trouble you will land.As a number I start,

A simple ratio of geometry conceived to be;

When the circumference and diameter of a circle divided,

Calculate and you will end up with me.3.14159,

Is all of me, I think you did assume;

Just take a try to pen me down,

Whole stack of earth’s paper I would consume.Not rational, a complete decimal,

A true irrational number I am;

Of non repeating decimals am I made,

As different as the counting fingers of a palm.A fixed origin I possess,

The ending is what’s unknown, infinite;

And still at moment now I move along,

Conjuring digits to my tail, indefinite.And as permutation creates,

All possibilities my decimals can make;

Among their non repeated non ending stance,

Any combo, any form I can take.The answer to life,

Or a fragment of it, in my numbers do I hide;

And wait for none as I journey along –

to my end, as do time and tide.And so much for a simple ratio to be,

A value to use of geometry am I;

Forever yours, forever long,

I am a mystery: I am pi.