Poetry or Maths?!!!

I fear that I will always be a lonely number like root three; a three is all that's good and right. Why must my three keep out of sight, beneath a vicious square-root sign?

I wish instead I were a nine, for nine could thwart this evil trick with just some quick arithmetic.

I know I'll never see the sun as 1.7321, Such is my reality, a sad irrationality.

When, hark, just what is this I see?

Another square root of a three

Has quietly come waltzing by

Together now we multiply

To form a number we prefer

Rejoicing as an integer

We break free from our mortal bonds

And with a wave of magic wands

Our square-root signs become unglued

And love for me has been renewed