In minds where rhythms stray askew, Where sudden motions flicker through, A blink, a shrug, a throat's refrain, A tic appears, but not in vain.
Provisional tics, they come and go, In children’s years, they often show, A fleeting guest, a passing phase, That fades away with passing days.
But some persist, their grip holds tight, Chronic tics in day and night. One sound or movement lingers on, A year or more, before it's gone.
And Tourette’s, its challenge vast, With motor tics and vocals cast. In childhood’s bloom, it often springs, And through the years, its presence clings.
A mystery, the cause unclear, Genetic ties may persevere. In circuits deep within the brain, The body moves, a silent strain.
Yet treatment shines a hopeful light, With therapy to set things right. Where habits bend and minds can train, To ease the body's restless chain.
For tics may flare with stress and fear, But calm and focus bring them clear. Through patient care and steady hand, A life with tics can gently stand.
