A line segment leading from me to you
grows walls and squares itself to us.
And time passes as we see our square life become
an ugly, unatural rhombus.
Distortion molds our daily lives and stop signs form
with eight equal sides.
And maybe stopping would be great
but who can really stop at eight?
A Dungeons and Dragons die becomes the shape
of our segmented line.
We are not who we used to be but the die becomes more
like you and me.
There is no way to make a straight line into
the perfect cirlce we wish to create.
For now we must accept that lines
cannot be bent to relate two lives.
Pi we know will never end
it extends into infinity
And lines we know they cannot bend
Nor can the bond between you and me.
