Of These Shapes (And Things)

Square pushed his shades up
Moved on best he could
Circle's news, again, had
Gotten the best of him
She went around and around,
She did, with the other
And Square just didn't know
How much more...

So Square made his way
To friend Rectangle's
It was slow going, as this
Stung deep, and dark, as if the bottom of
His stomach gave way and fell out
Smashing and bashing concrete while still connected
To his central nervous system dragging remnants
All along the way

Square and Rectangle then sat,
Going over angle and aperature
Square sometimes playing a dark scenario out
In his head, for he thought of The Octagon
Or shall he just go to his bed, as Rectangle
Continued with postulates, Square, he did
He called, the proof was just too deep to solve
To make circle straight, and open the triangle wide

Well, The Octagon obliged (bang?)
And, Square rolled on...