Dysphagia speaks in whispered tones,
A struggle felt in throat and bones.
A sip of water, bite of bread,
Can choke the breath and fill with dread.
The food that once so smoothly passed,
Now lingers, lodged, or stuck at last.
It slows, it stalls, it fights to go,
Through paths the body used to know.
For some, the nerves misfire or fade,
A stroke or tremor misleads the blade.
While others find their muscles tire,
As weakness builds, their need is dire.
In other throats, a tumor grows,
An unseen barrier no one knows.
The esophagus may tighten still,
Or reflux burns, against the will.
A cough, a gag, a sip, a pain,
Each meal becomes a fragile gain.
Aspiration, liquid’s wrong descent,
The breath betrays what’s innocent.
Yet hope remains in hands of care,
Where therapists and doctors share
New ways to guide what once was free,
To bring back ease, restore the plea.
From diet change to surgeries,
The body’s wisdom still may tease.
For dysphagia, though firm its grip,
May loosen, letting life still sip.
