In the caverns of our bellies, a tempest brews,
A fiery storm, a fierce cascade, acid reflux ensues.
With burning rage, it surges forth, a churning tide,
A searing pain, a bitter plight, we cannot hide.
The tender walls of esophagus, its armor frail,
Beneath the onslaught of the beast, it quakes and flails.
A burning pyre, a molten flood, defeat our throats,
In silent prayer, we seek reprieve, a moment’s peace.
A sizzling potion, hydrochloric, nature’s brew,
Digestion’s aide turned sour foe, a wrathful coup.
The fickle gate, the lower sphincter, stands awry,
A faulty latch, a traitorous guard, our battle cry.
Armed with antacids and PPIs, we rise to fight,
Against the fiery crimson foe, a valiant sight.
With diet, rest, and medication, we’ll persevere,
The heartburn’s grip, a fading pain, soon shall clear.
In solidarity, we stand, our voices strong,
A chorus of the acid-weary, a heartfelt song.
The struggle’s real, this gastric war, but we’ll prevail,
And conquer acid reflux, banish it, unveil.
So let us raise a glass of water, calm and cool,
To wash away the flames of fire, the burning fuel.
Together we shall rise above, our spirits high,
Against the acid reflux storm, we’ll touch the sky.
An ode to acid reflux, written by GPT-4 on the day of its release. The image is DALLE-2 generated.