Layla Riley-Hill Poet Rhyme

A Black Ballerina

Hair straightened,
A slick back bun,
Each follicle - has a part to play,
Silence -
Not one hair out of place,
If they were she would be called a disgrace

Makeup done -
To perfection,
Before she performs,
She will face inspection,
The other girls with skin so fair,
Don’t have to deal with treatment so unfair,
But the girl with dark skin -
Knew she would never win,
For they were very critical of her blackness

Her body,
Tightly squeezed into -
A leotard two sizes, too small,
And a tutu, that swallows her whole,
They gave it to her,
Because they said that her thighs jiggle,
And that for her age it was unnatural,
She was a black girl,
And all the other girls were skin and bones,
It’s not her fault she looks ‘grown’
She couldn’t complain otherwise they would label her non compliant
This all happened before her performance,
And, yet she outperformed all the white girls,
And just like her skin - her medal reflected gold

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