In the quiet of the marrow, slow and still, Lymphocytes begin to gather, bend to will. Silent soldiers, meant to guard and heal, Now they multiply with no thought to feel.
The blood, once pure, now carries a crowd, Abnormal cells, their numbers growing loud. In bone and vein, they start to spill, A quiet rebellion, against the body’s will.
Fatigue arrives like a shadowy guest, Lymph nodes swell, the body’s unrest. Infections bloom where strength once stood, As cancerous cells outnumber the good.
Weight melts away, night sweats appear, Fevers whisper of a lurking fear. The bruises come easy, the bleeding, too, A fragile system struggles to renew.
Yet the journey is patient, slow in pace, A battle fought, but not always a race. With watchful waiting, some hold their ground, While others seek treatments, in hope they're found.
Targeted therapies, precise as a dart, Immunotherapy, calling the immune to start. Chemotherapy for those who fight with might, The options grow clearer as day turns to night.
And though the path is varied, long, or short, In strength and courage, many find support. For CLL may change the blood and bone, But in the heart, resilience is grown.
So onward, with hope in the marrow's deep, In science and time, promises to keep.
