Dirge of π

The whole concept of irrationality is alien in engineering which leads to a phenomenon called engineering approximation. There is no room for anything but floating point numbers. This poetry is π's battle for existence in the engineering world.

A lonely π wanders free,
Weeps at his irrationality.
Father "circle" makes no claim -
As orphan he had made his name.
Numbers chuckle at his his shape
But Mathematics won't let him escape
Clustered with Greek lexicon
With phi, zeta and omicron.
Oh, see how hard he has tried
To say his state is justified,

"You round me out and give a fix
As 3.14156,
I don't mind you mutilate,
Transform me or conjugate
As long as you can calculate
My floating points will truncate.
But answers embed fallacy
Dubbed reasonable accuracy.
When will you comprehend
Approximation is a rule you bend
Imparted on a π or cake
Or generally on a circular shape.
Will someone teach you please
The irrationality of Mathematics
I can work and I can fix
I compute, he just predicts
But 3.14156
Has got no tricks up his sleeves."

But still no signs of conviction,
They treat him like Greek lexicon
And shun his grandiose and his might
"Get the hell off my sight."
Sadly he just walks away
Engineers won't let him stay.
Ideology conflicts
While 3.14156
Walks in proud approximation
As welcomed substitution.

The lonely π wanders free,
Cursing his irrationality.
His helplessness has no defense
Yet oblivious to the existence
Of theoretical physicists
Who'll take him in, as he is.

P.S. Main tera π π chuka doonga.