In blood’s deep flow, a silent tale,
Of sugar’s bind, a slow unveil.
Hemoglobin meets its sugary fate,
A glycation dance, a measured state.
This test we call the HbA1c,
Reveals the past in mystery,
For two, three months, a story told,
Of glucose high or calm and cold.
If numbers fall below five and seven,
Blood sings of balance, life in heaven.
But rise to six, and prediabetes knocks,
A gentle warning, ticking clocks.
Beyond six-five, the threshold shows,
Diabetes’ grip in red blood flows.
A careful watch, a target drawn,
To keep that line below seven’s dawn.
For some, it’s easy, a line held low,
While others fight a harder flow.
This dance with sugar, hemoglobin’s fate,
Is balance kept, or a heavy weight.
Each point, a chapter in glucose’s tale,
Of highs and lows and bodies frail.
The HbA1c, a crystal lens,
Revealing past, as future bends.
With careful steps, the journey long,
To find a place where blood runs strong.
For sugar’s hold may wax and wane,
But knowledge guides through joy and pain.
So read the blood, the numbers tell,
A tale of health, of living well.
For every cell holds memory’s key,
In the measure known as HbA1c.
