In bones that bear the weight we stand,
A hidden crack, a pain unplanned,
Born from the strain of endless motion,
A stress fracture, a quiet commotion.
Repetitive force, a relentless beat,
Athlete's plight, a familiar feat,
In dancers' leaps and runners' stride,
In bones, a secret pain may hide.
Shins, feet, and hips, they bear the brunt,
Of overuse, they bear the hunt,
For fractures small, yet mighty in pain,
That grow unnoticed, like silent rain.
Symptoms arise, a warning call,
Localized ache, a swelling ball,
Tenderness whispers, a tale untold,
Of bones weakened, of stories unfold.
With activity, the pain does grow,
But with rest, it seems to slow,
A dance of agony, a rhythm clear,
Stress fractures speak, though softly near.
Untreated, they may wreak havoc deep,
Complications arise from secrets keep,
Complete fractures loom, a looming threat,
In bones where stress and silence met.
Rest becomes the sacred rite,
To heal the fractures, to set things right,
Immobilized, a cast, a brace,
To cradle bones in gentle embrace.
Physical therapy, a path to tread,
To rebuild strength, to mend what's bled,
Gradual return, a cautious stride,
To prevent the fractures from where they hide.
So heed the whispers of bones unseen,
And treat them gently, with care, serene,
For in the quiet depths of our frame,
Lies the tale of the stress fracture's claim.
