Often I have sought refuge

From the complexities of life

In the relative simplicity

And orderliness of numbers,

Spending countless hours

Exploring for patterns in primes

Or in Pascal's triangle  

There can be a satisfaction gained

By noticing some regularity

Or some perfection of mathematical beauty

In the well‑defined world of numbers  

Perhaps even as a society

We of the West by consensus

Wrap ourselves up in

The seeming security of the quantitative,

Relying on statistics

Which are sometimes inaccurate

Or used out of context,

Only acknowledging as real

That which we can quantify,

Unfortunately ignoring

What we have not quantified