Asymptotes

I'm a geometry sort of person myself. Geometry sends thrills of joy through my body.

And equations? Well, they're not so bad, really. Solving one has always given me immense satisfaction.

Of all math concepts, the one that I particularly disliked in high school was graphing points. Sometimes I would mix up the x-axis and y-axis (rather like I sometimes mix up left and right) and then my graphs would be a mess. Add to that all the shifting and reflecting of functions and whatnot and the whole thing just became like a hopelessly tangled ball of yarn in my head.

Yesterday the Fearless One reminded me that I once wrote a poem about a graph concept that was particularly frustrating to me: asymptotes. Here it is, for your viewing pleasure.

Asymptotes
If I ever met an asymptote, do you know what I'd say?

It's likely I would tell that useless thing to go away.

Asymptotes aren't helpful, for they muddle up my brain.

A graph with one becomes a thing that I cannot explain.

In a function, they're supposed to show the balances and checks,

but all they do for me is help me to misplace each x.

They say that asymptotes make sense, but that is just a lie.

Why should there ever have to be a limit to this y?

Numbers are just things that should be lined up in a line.

To any other way of thought I find I'm not inclined,

and therefore, it is hard for me to see this in my mind:

that two puny dotted straits would keep some points confined?

Points on a graph can't run away; they stay within their space.

Confining them is fruitless, a fact you've got to face.

If those stagnant points should truly wish to move about,

I doubt those skinny asymptotes could really keep them out.

Yes, asymptotes are useless, no matter where one roams.

So I won't do my Pre-Calc homework, I'll just sit here writing poems.