13/08/2026
๐ ๐๐ฆ ๐๐๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐๐ฎ๐ฆ!
Poetic MM # 19
(A Homeopathic Remedy Poem)
I am Causticum, fierce yet kind,
A rebelโs spirit, a healerโs mind.
Weak in body, yet strong in heart,
Fighting for justice, I play my part.
I feel too much, Iโm moved to act,
Sympathetic, I cannot turn back.
The suffering of others hits my coreโ
I fight for them, the lost, the poor.
I am the rebel against authority,
Exhilarated by politics, bold and free.
In the chaos, I find my spark,
A flame that flickers in the dark.
Sympathetic toward the creatures I see,
Their pain is mine, it cuts through me.
Oversensitive to every cry,
For the suffering that makes me sigh.
Ailments born from sorrowโs weight,
Grief that lingers, sealing fate.
Yet still, I rise, though bruised and torn,
For in my heart, a new hope is born.
I am the voice that stammers in rage,
The activist on lifeโs harsh stage.
An idealistโs heart, strong yet weak,
I rebel for those who cannot speak.
My nerves grow weak, my strength subsides,
As gradual paralysis creeps inside.
One side numb, the other strained,
By sorrow and anger long ingrained.
I am the voice that often fades,
Lost to grief, in hoarse cascades.
A cough, a strain, a voice grown weakโ
Words catch in my throat when I try to speak.
I feel as though thereโs something there,
A stubborn lump that fills the air,
Constantly hawking, trying to clear,
The sensation of something that wonโt disappear.
My face, at times, will freeze and fall,
After wind or rain, or no cause at all.
One-sided paralysis takes its toll,
As weakness of nerves consumes me whole.
I tremble, leak, when I laugh or sneeze,
An act of nature brings me to my knees.
My body betrays with little control,
A weakened sphincter, worn and sole.
My voice goes quiet from overuse,
From singing, speaking, I lose my fuse.
Hoarse and empty, my words wonโt stay,
They fade like a mist and drift away.
Pain in my throat, raw as fire,
Swallowing feels like a tiresome choir.
A need to clear what canโt be gone,
This constant burden I carry on.
A body weakened by lifeโs unrest,
Yet rain-soaked warmth brings me some rest.
Cold, dry air fuels my pain,
But in wet warmth, I breathe again.
Smoked meats comfort, ease my strife,
A taste that steadies this fragile life.
Sweets hold no sway, they canโt appeal,
For strength lies in smoke and hearty meals.
I am Causticum, fierce and kind,
A rebelโs spirit, a healerโs mind.
Weak in body, yet strong in heart,
Fighting for justice, I play my part.
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Inspiration for poetry from
Poetry & Concept picture by:
Dr. Nidaa Irshad
Homeopath
Karachi - Pakistan.
10/11/24