Beneath the veil where shadows creep,
Blood sugars rise but do not leap.
A silent sign, a quiet call,
Not yet a fall, but risks enthrall.
A fasting line, a measure small,
One hundred marks the border's wall.
The HbA1c whispers faint,
Numbers paint what words can't taint.
No obvious signs, no beacon bright,
Yet darkness grows within the night.
Acanthosis, a shaded skin,
Hints at battles brewing within.
Risk gathers round like stormy seas,
Obesity grips with subtle tease.
A sedentary life, a heavy frame,
Fuel the embers of this flame.
Family ties, genetics’ hand,
Echoes of fate through time's sand.
Gestational paths, PCOS’s plight,
Raise the stakes in this quiet fight.
But hope still lingers, bold and wide,
A chance to turn this fateful tide.
Whole grains, greens on every plate,
A future molded by diet's weight.
A rhythm found in steps we tread,
Minutes carved where heartbeats spread.
Weight released, a burden gone,
A brighter health is swiftly drawn.
Metformin’s hand may sometimes aid,
A tool where efforts still cascade.
Prediabetes stands a line,
A chance to act, a lifeline's sign.
So walk the rope with steady pace,
And meet the challenge face to face.
For in the balance lies the key,
To health, to hope, to destiny.
