In the realm where cells divide and thrive, Dysplasia lurks, a subtle, silent guide. Abnormal growth, a whispered tale, In tissues, organs, it leaves its trail.
Bone, skin, or epithelial fold, No corner of the body is left untold. Under the lens, the microscope's gaze, Cells dance in patterns, an eerie maze.
Size, shape, a disordered ballet, A harbinger of an uncertain way. Precancerous whispers, a looming dread, Yet not all paths to cancer are led.
Cervix, bone, each with its plight, Dysplasia's touch, a spectral light. Cervical dysplasia, bone's altered dance, Each a unique, precarious trance.
Treatment's song, a delicate art, Balancing hope, science's part. Surveillance, medication, surgery's embrace, In the battle against this silent chase.
Regular watch, a vigilant eye, Guarding against the cancerous cry. For in the dance of dysplasia's play, Early detection holds the day.
So let us heed the whispered tale, Of dysplasia's shadowy veil. For in understanding, we find the key, To unlock the doors to a cancer-free decree.
