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Think of the layers surrounding the brain,
Spacing the bone from precious gray matter;
Serving as cushion, remembered as “pad”;
Pia, arachnoid—as well—dura mater.
Taken for granted these tissues though dear
Until a trauma shakes brain within skull.
Maybe instead inflammation occurs,
Causing neck stiffness and making one dull.
Fever and headache, confusion and more,
Many the symptoms of sad meningitis.
Give, then, some thought to meninges that range
Tip-top to tail in both presence and service.
Whether the fluid of spinal cord bath
Or natural floating of cord in canal,
Functions we see of these layers so meek
Tell of creator and wisdom past all.
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Ultra-processed foods deceive
The hurried mouths they feed.
Packets filled with taste appeal
Yet void of worth, indeed.
Wholesome foods we tend to think
Are palate pleasing all.
Calories more flavor dense
Have power to enthrall.
Various compounds added, though,
While stretching life on shelf,
Lack the inclination to
Preserve the life of self.
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Pride may go before destruction,
A haughty spirit before a fall;
But at the ripe old age of eighty,
A bit of pride may come to all.
Having got so far, the aged,
They feel a certain license due.
Previous if a bit contrary,
No rules for them now writ and true.
Watch out world, I come a barreling,
Just clear the way and let me through.
Dues for years were paid already,
I've earned the right to not see you.
Literal then the fall awaiting;
As frailty rises… attention wanes.
Social state may hardly matter,
But breaking hip much danger gains.
Risk of death is much, much higher,
And housing needs wreak major change.
Outlook then is bleak and scary,
That haughty spirit not in range.