In the body's silent stream, where rivers flow, From kidney's peaks to bladder’s gentle low, A valve once steadfast, holding firm and true, Now falters, letting backward currents brew.
A trickling tide, defying nature's path, Climbs up the ureters, kindling a wrath. From bladder’s cup, the waters rise in vain, Seeking a place they should not entertain.
In grades they come, from gentle to severe, A creeping echo that we learn to fear. The first, a whisper, barely felt at all, The fifth, a flood that breaches every wall.
What causes this, we seek to understand— A flaw from birth, or infections at hand. It’s in the signs, the restless nights, the pain, The hidden storm within a child’s domain.
We see it clear through images revealed, A picture painted where the truth’s unsealed. And so we fight with measures great and small, To curb the flow and save the kidneys’ thrall.
For in this fight, it's health we seek to guard, Against the backward stream, our watch is hard. With careful eyes, we monitor each turn, To keep the future bright, where hope can burn.
In every pulse, in every steady beat, We stand against the reflux, strong, complete. For in this journey, vigilance will guide, To calm the waters and restore the tide.
