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The many languages of black voices
We dont have to use our voice to scream
Because a voice isn't just words
It's art, it's our presence, it's how we exist
It's being unapologetically black
Our presence is like the rain after a drought
And the rain nourishes the ground
It's like walking into a room and it's brought back to life
Where once was darkness, has now been replaced with light
It's like the changing of seasons
From winter to spring
Where the dry land blossoms
The flowers bring back the colour
Where you can't help but admire
The beauty of nature
A black persons presence is an honour
Because we make the world brighter
Our words written in permanent marker
Acting as our armor
But also as a constant reminder
That no matter what they throw at us we will always prosper
And that is one of our greatest powers
Born through the strength of our ancestors
To tell the truth of hidden history
And generational mistreatment of our people
And most importantly our voice is how we love ourselves
It overrides their hateful noise
Because love has always been louder than hate
Especially when their racism was conceived through envy
It's why the hate when we find out the real enemy
It was never us, it was always about their white fragility
Ever growing burning jealousy
It's why we're burdened with their hate we carry
So there is no room left for love, something along the way we had to bury
Copyright ©
Layla Riley-Hill
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