I fall off the Natural Log

No matter the variables or constant values
The slope of the function will ever be inverse.
The cacaphony of the crunching of numbers
Drill through my poor head, indeed to burst.

The cosine wave of dear anxiety coincides
With the tangent wave of lovely distress;
I close my fist to resist the harmonic cycle
But yet again make another musical mess.

Can my essence be predicted by a logarithm
Can it calculate a set of reasons? Please:
Decipher the exponential decay of this heart
And the restless purl of these seasons

i sit and look out

I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all oppression and shame;
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with themselves, remorseful after deeds done;
I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children, dying, neglected, gaunt, desperate;
I see the wife misused by her husband--I see the treacherous seducer of young women;
I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love, attempted to be hid--I see these sights on the earth;
I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny--I see martyrs and prisoners;
I observe a famine at sea--I observe the sailors casting lots who shall be kill'd, to preserve the lives of the rest;
I observe the slights and degradations cast by arrogant persons upon laborers, the poor, and upon negroes, and the like;
All these--All the meanness and agony without end, I sitting, look out upon,
See, hear, and am silent.

- walt whitman