She boldly walks toward the fire.
She doesn’t know it burns.
The flames excite her;
she coos as she chases “happiness.”
She is clothed in razzmatazz.
You should see how her face lights up
when her peers gaze fondly
and play with her beautiful pearls.
Today, she does not eat her asaro.
Mother is worried sick,
checks her pulse, her skin, her heat.
“Pulse, Mother, pulse.”
The pearls fail the vibe check.
She watches the sunrise pass,
runs after butterflies on her way back.
The pearls grow quiet in her pockets.
Now she knows that fire burns,
that pearls are only beads.
As she makes her oromadie ready to fly,
she learns
joy has always lived
in the little things.
By Queenp
Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 4:45 PM UTC
She boldly walks toward the fire.
She doesn’t know it burns.
The flames excite her;
she coos as she chases “happiness.”
She is clothed in razzmatazz.
You should see how her face lights up
when her peers gaze fondly
and play with her beautiful pearls.
Today, she does not eat her asaro.
Mother is worried sick,
checks her pulse, her skin, her heat.
“Pulse, Mother, pulse.”
The pearls fail the vibe check.
She watches the sunrise pass,
runs after butterflies on her way back.
The pearls grow quiet in her pockets.
Now she knows that fire burns,
that pearls are only beads.
As she makes her oromadie ready to fly,
she learns
joy has always lived
in the little things.
By Queenp
The poem is about the inner child, need for validation, naivety in what she thinks is happiness and the peace that comes witj growth and realization that happiness is found in little things.