Hepatitis C, a silent fight,
A virus lurking out of sight.
Through blood it flows from soul to soul,
A hidden thief, it takes its toll.
Sharing needles, paths of pain,
Or sterile tools, left untrained.
Before the screens of blood were done,
Transfusions spread what none could shun.
A child may bear what none could see,
The gift of life with HCV.
It starts acute, but lasts too long,
Chronic whispers, growing strong.
Fatigue creeps in, the body weak,
The jaundiced eyes, the liver speaks.
Darkened urine, pain inside,
Nausea, nowhere left to hide.
Yet many feel no early sign,
As cirrhosis forms, like creeping vines.
With liver failing, cancer's near,
The years pass by, a growing fear.
But blood tests now can tell the tale,
Antibodies, RNA prevail.
Direct antivirals lead the way,
Curing most within weeks' stay.
Though vaccines still are out of reach,
Prevention stands, the best to teach:
Avoid the risks, stay clean, be wise—
And keep the virus from disguise.
