Separately, they're fine
I don't mind them one bit
On sheets of green paper
I could use more of it
But when they stand in line
And want to rearrange
That's when my mind goes blank
My affections then change
The only thing I feel
Towards them becomes wrath
And that is what happens
When I am faced with math
If only I could send
The effort that I spent
On all of these words here
To learn where numbers went
It might improve my work
Or make me really sick
Oh how I do despise
What's called arithmetic.
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