Poetry by Raisa Labiba

Be the Light

Don’t let it affect you
Their poisonous words were never meant to feed you.
Remember your worth.
You are the only one who can truly love
Love, and love yourself.
Be resilient.
Be kind to your body.
At the end of the day,
There is no one but you
To hold your soul with glory.
You are the light in your own darkness,
The sunshine breaks through rainy clouds.
Be the light that never hides.
Sing the song that makes your heart dance,
Grab your guitar—
Laugh like a maniac
As you strum that beautiful, melodious hum.
Do what you love.
Don’t stop writing.
Don’t silence the lightning
That bursts with energy and exuberance.
Be the light in your own darkness
Because you’re the only one who truly can.

The Little Sunflower

You are the little sunflower,
Be loyal to yourself and God.
Never be afraid to flaunt your flaws;
They are part of you,
It’s what makes you, you.
You are the little sunflower,
Bright, bold, and yellow,
Standing tall with courage
A symbol of strength and beauty.

The Painter of your life

Nothing matters more than you, yourself.
You’re the tree to the apple,
And the band-aid to the wound.
You’re the sunshine to the trees
And the water to the fire

You’re enough.
Your worth is not for anyone to decide.
You don’t need to please anyone,
Or be anyone’s daily listener,

Give yourself time,
You are all you need,
Discover your strength
And recognise your worth,

This is just the beginning,
You have complete power over your life,
Hold your ground,
Shape your life,
Your life is your art, and you hold the brush

You Are a Flower

You’re like a flower
A bud before it blooms,
Growing slowly, like the sunrise.
No one can dim your light.
You’re a flower in the way you grow
Into a beautiful person.
In different colours,
You express your emotions as a whole.
You’re a flower.
Fragile, yet strong.
Fragile in the way you might break
Under too much pressure.
Strong in the way
Your presence never fades
From the air’s embrace.
You’re a flower that blooms,
That dances and lives.
Never put too much pressure on yourself
You might break.
Instead, hold your stance,
And bloom
Like the person you truly are.

Tulips

I look at the beautiful tulips,
They greet me with innocence.
My presence gave them patience and hope,
As they awaited their visitor in the flower shop.
The florist gushed about how amazing the flowers smelled.
The bright pink tulips danced beneath the perfectly bright sun,
The sun smiled at the florist as she tied her hair into a thick bun.
I took pictures of the flowers and the florist.
Everything seemed alive, bursting with color,
Everything seemed natural and beautiful, for once, in this gloomy world.

The Beauty Who Weaves

A sad song invaded her thoughts,
She couldn’t help but connect the knots.
She dotted her sweater, bright pink like a strawberry lollipop,
She weaves, only to find her fingers crossed.
Something good awaits her, she thought,
But her mind, a hive of figures, dances across.
She sits alone, silenced by the crowd,
While everyone dances beneath the glistening chandelier.
She watches them in quiet awe,
Sitting, camouflaged by flaws.
They see her as a doll on display,
But she waits for her night-saviour to take the loneliness away.
Eyes surround her, but she feels the same emptiness,
The beauty sits there, weaving, unnoticed in the mess.
No one sees how her happiness has blurred into bitterness.
Each loop ends with a soft whisper,
Her eyes twitch with insecurities that flicker.
She searches for a familiar visage,
But looks away with a quiet sadness.
Then comes a beautiful carriage,
Gold and glass, glowing in the night.
A man steps out, a figure of grace,
She doesn’t look, knowing she’s her own light.
She takes her passion and leaves with glory,
No longer waiting for someone to tell her story.

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