In the heart of Congo’s deep and mystic flow, Emerges a name, Isaro Li, precious as a pearl’s glow. Birthed in Bukavu town, amidst countless souls, In a world where escape is as elusive as black holes. A heritage rich, deep-rooted in my Tutsi veins, Yet, I’ve always longed for the universe’s open plains. Our town, a refuge from Rwanda’s tragic past, Housing remnants of the Tutsi regime vast. A book-loving nerd, quiet and withdrawn, Dreaming, fantasizing, till the break of dawn. Yearning to bring forth my essence to the world, In art and fashion, my dreams unfurled. Liberated minds, the world I crave, Unlike my birthplace, where conservative ideals pave. To express, to share, my spirit yearns, Yet from my roots, creativity sternly turns. United Nations beckons my mother’s toil, From Rwanda, Uganda, my life began to uncoil. To Daytona Beach, then Denver, the journey was long, Uncle’s intervention, a right in the wrong. In the mile high city, I found my place, In artistic expression, I discovered grace. Hairpieces, jewelry, and high fashion’s allure, Every art form, a reflection pure. Now, I’ve shared my tale, as wide as the sea, In this dance of life, tell me, who might you be?