No, Mr Generic, you're not right.
The answer is pi over four.
Pi over four, can't you see?
Stop telling me the answer is pi over three,
Stop telling me you know what's correct.
You may have taught for nine years,
But that does not make you a master of math,
A compendium of knowledge,
Smarter than me.
You act so smug, as if you had
Created all of mathematics yourself.
But you didn't.
I may be younger, with less experience,
Fewer sights seen, a limited view of
The world and the way in which it functions,
But that does not blind me
From the truth, Mr.s Generic.
I have something over you, and
There is nothing you can do.