In whispers soft, a viral thief does roam, Through droplets in the air, it finds its home. Mumps, the name, a silent harbinger of pain, Infects the glands, its swollen mark, its gain.
Beneath the ears, where tender parotids lay, A swelling grows, in hues of night and day. A "hamster-like" guise, its telltale sign, A mask of anguish, a sight so unkind.
Fever's flame, headache's relentless throb, Muscles ache, under mumps' cruel lob. Fatigue's heavy cloak, appetite's flight, Symptoms akin to flu, a silent blight.
Children, often spared, in mumps' gentle grasp, Yet adults face its wrath, in a harsher clasp. Encephalitis lurks, a shadow on the brain, Meningitis whispers, a tremor in the lane.
Deafness' silent call, ovaries' tender swell, Testicles' burden, where agony may dwell. Complications grave, in mumps' silent dance, A reminder of its power, in every circumstance.
But hope gleams bright, in science's embrace, The MMR's shield, a guardian in place. Vaccination's promise, a beacon strong and clear, Against mumps' shadow, a light to steer.
So let us stand, against this viral tide, With knowledge and courage, as our guide. For in unity's strength, in prevention's might, We stand resilient, against mumps' silent flight.
