Pi is a story rarely told,
it fits on in
like its old in the fold.
Its as important to nature,
as it is to man,
Why cant we read it,
Just as it ran.
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is the inverse
to start it be told.
The way I read it is from a father of old.
Father Son and the Holy Ghost,
A family of four,
but who’d have noticed.
Read in inverse base four,
broken up like never before.
So here we go
freestyling away.
Mix that with chanting
and a pray on to stay.
For the father to grow
he makes his darl one.
The next in lines perfect
grow the last one.
Deny yourself
prevent the wife,
grow up the children
so they’re perfectly ripe.
Take it easy,
its not that hard,
She’s the one,
don’t make her retard.
Set the example
on the first one,
For the others to see
so that the lessons be sung.
Focus on your own
spiritual growth,
Not even a partner
can own your own pluth.
First born’s denied
any and all growth,
So the others can rest
owning
reflective mopes.
So,
While
in the heat of it,
chasing your dreams
so you can worship a bit.
Remember she’s first
and all the kids,
They got to grow counting
and keep rhyming with myths.
And when those dreams – do come true,
That private time – with just her and you.
Remember that that – that first born,
will be practicing and – be quite focused on.
That’s when the others,
can rest in peace,
grow up living,
harmoniously.
five,
two,
six,
seven,
this is the way,
we get to heaven.
Learn to count,
learn to read,
keep on studying,
yes-o-ra me indeed.
She’ll be there,
to back you up,
reminding you,
that there’s another cup.
And to take it easy,
on old joe blow,
how else is everyone,
going to catch the show.
four,
five,
oh,
three,
Its time for a lovely,
cup of tea.
square up nicely,
get ready to count,
its growth for the children,
don’t let them miss out!
Hoped you like my poetry,
an alpha numeral atrocity.
Always looking for my mother,
But who’d like me do another?
Extend the quest to another four,
read and weep, then beg for more.
If I do,
make it another eight,
I’m sure they’ll be
a great delight.
And if I blow it,
out to ten,
I’ll be leave all the people,
hang-ing-ing-ing,
But if I do,
sweet sixteen,
Maybe you’ll find me,
a beautiful queen.