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Sarah Salako Feb 2020
new
i feel new,
i no longer have chains holding me down,
i no longer feel like i have to take my time,
hold my tongue; be a good girl now,

i feel new,
i can stretch my arms i won't me a brick wall,
taunting me; i want out but they hate when i am free,

i feel new,
i can feel the sun on my skin, the rain on my lips,
the wind in my hair, the love in your kiss,

i am new,
no longer in the past,
i am the future,
i'm more than happy with that.
this is the first poem i've written in a long time. Most of my poems have been really dark so i wanted to draw back the curtain and let the sun in
Sarah Salako Feb 2019
now that i am older,
i am faster,
stronger,
braver,
now that i am older,
i am wittier,
prettier,
probably,
possibly,
definitely,
shitier,

i can help it now i am older,
i will continue to get older,
till i am frail,
pale,
meek,
made obsolete,
they just want to press delete,
i am a burden to the nation of youths,
so wide-eyed and bushy tailed with determination,
endless possibilities,
that will come to an end,
because,
like me,
you will get older,
i promise like me,
pale and meek and obsolete,
someone somewhere,
will press delete.
we all get older in the end
Sarah Salako Oct 2018
the colours are more vivid than I remember,
Reds, oranges and yellows dance across the sky,
Clouds brushing past in awe hoping to pick up the hues of sunset,
Dance,
Dancing,
Watch,
Watching time has come and gone,
The stars ask if I’ve had the time of my life,
...I have
The best way to spend my final day.
Now eternal rest.
I hope the last day is a day of peace, joy and reflection. On both the positive and negative and understanding that our stories can influence the future generation. We know nothing about what the future holds but what we do know is that it holds the hopes and dreams of the newborns.
  Oct 2018 Sarah Salako
Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may **** me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Sarah Salako Aug 2018
Have I ever dreamt of the sunrise? The new dawn, with it thoughts and opportunities.

Have I ever confessed my love of the sunrise?
Your image in my head,
Your breath softly caressing my skin unknown to you as you are unknowning to the world sleeping beside me.

The fresh morning breeze,
Whistle of the leaves,
The joy of the trees.

My heart belongs now to the sunrise.
The unknown yet known.
What lies ahead...
Take my hand. Inhale.

Exhale.

Come with me.
This has got to be my favourite poem I've written this year so I wanted to share it with you. Enjoy
Out of the night that covers me,
      Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
      For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
      I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance
      My head is ******, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
      Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
      Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
      How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
      I am the captain of my soul.
  May 2018 Sarah Salako
Orange Rose
I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.
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