Poetry By Raisa Labiba Sabera

Featured Young Global Poet

Raisa Labiba Sabera

Raisa Labiba Sabera, a rising literary voice from Bangladesh, is currently a Grade 10 student preparing for her O’ Levels. Her journey into poetry began through a love of reading, an early fascination with literature that gradually transformed into a personal and expressive craft. For Raisa, poetry is more than art; it is a sanctuary. A space where emotions too complex for conversation find form in verse, and where silence gives way to self-discovery.

Her writing is deeply rooted in the lived realities of adolescence, a time shaped by inner turmoil, identity, mental health, and the quiet battles waged behind composed smiles. Through raw honesty and lyrical vulnerability, Raisa uses poetry as a tool for reflection, resilience, and emotional truth.
She draws literary inspiration from a wide spectrum of voices: from the timeless elegance of Shakespearean sonnets to the psychological depth of Dostoevsky’s prose, as well as the evocative simplicity of modern poets like Rupi Kaur. Raisa also celebrates the voices of emerging writers on platforms such as Wattpad, where sincerity and storytelling thrive beyond the mainstream.

In this feature, Global Poet and Poetry is proud to present a curated selection of Raisa’s original poems, which offer a compelling glimpse into the mind of a young poet with uncommon depth, clarity, and heart.

Poetry by Raisa Labiba Sabera

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 breaking 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 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 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.

The Flowers on the Bench

The flowers lie insignificantly on the bench,
The bench—freshly made,
wooden, without a stench.
The woman leaves the flowers there,
Letting them fade in silent air.

The moon—hollow, yet full in light,
Something’s missing in the night.
It starts to drift, it stirs, it sighs,
As silence echoes through the skies.

The flowers, now drenched by gentle rain,
Wait for her through time and pain.
They wait and wait, through storm and gleam,
While the moon grows sharper in its beam.

The bench, with sorrow softly bare,
Holds the flowers with quiet care.
It cradles them in wooden grace,
As raindrops fall on every face.

The rain pours down excessively,
Leaving petals torn—no remedy.
For when you water too much, too fast,
The roots will snap; they will not last.

And just like plants, we humans ache-
If we give too much, we too can break.
They’ll change, become what we don’t know:
Strangers shaped by overflow.

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,
They are what make you you.

You are the little sunflower
Bright, bold, and yellow,
Standing tall with courage
A symbol of strength and beauty.

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.

Editor’s Note from Global Poet and Poetry

At Global Poet and Poetry, we are honoured to publish the work of Raisa Labiba Sabera, an exceptional young poet whose voice resonates with sincerity, wisdom, and emotional insight far beyond her years. Her poetry, published here alongside her profile, exemplifies the transformative power of literature to give shape to the invisible, to comfort the unheard, and to unite readers across cultural and generational lines.

Raisa’s poetic journey is a vivid reminder that creativity knows no age and that some of the most profound truths are spoken through the words of the young. Her courage to write openly about mental health, identity, and self-worth not only empowers her own growth but invites others to reflect on their inner landscapes.

To our global community of emerging poets: let Raisa’s story be an invitation. An invitation to write boldly, to feel deeply, and to share your voice with the world. Whether your poem is a whisper or a roar, it deserves to be heard.

Keep writing. Keep feeling. Keep believing in the power of your words.

Faruk Ahmed Roni
Editor
Global Poet and Poetry

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