Home » Poems » Best » Layla Riley-Hill » Best Layla Riley-Hill Poems

Best Poems Written by Layla Riley-Hill

Below are the all-time best Layla Riley-Hill poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Layla Riley-Hill Poem

The many funerals of a black girl

How many funerals of ones self can someone have before there is nothing left
Don't answer 
It's rhetorical anyway

Funeral number 1
A piece of her hair
A symbol of when they would stop and stare
At her hair
When they would make her life a living nightmare 
Until she became too aware
Until It became too much to bear
Until she silenced her hair
What once was full of life 
Was now minimised 
I wish she had realised that without her halo
She would no longer glow
But then again hair can grow
Maybe it's a metaphor for ones worth

Funeral 2
Her laugh 
Too loud they said
To black they said 
To much they said
Too much space she took she thought 
Her happiness too much
Too
Much
Now every room haunted by the ghost of her laugh
Her joy
Her presence 
Her happiness 
No room was worth going in anymore
Too empty
Too small
What once was loud 
Was now silent
I guess laughter is the best medicine 
I guess the medicine stopped working 

Funeral 3
Her carved skin
She was just given it 
She didn't ask for it 
So why do they hate her for it 
They told her bleach it 
Then she would be pretty
She did
Now she's a monster 
She can never win
What once was golden 
Was now broken
I guess what glitters is not always gold
Or Maybe it is, I guess it was a lie they told

So I ask again 
This time you can answer
How many funerals of ones self can someone have before there is nothing left ?

Details | Layla Riley-Hill Poem

When I look into my grandmother's eyes

When I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see what she's had to sacrifice 
When I look into my grandmother's eyes 
I see a lifetime of pain she's carried
When I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see the hurt of not being accepted 
When I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see Someone who once despised her beautiful black skin
When I look into my grandmother's eyes 
I see her voice constantly silenced
When I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see her fight to fix the unjust system 

But when I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see a fire That still burns 
But when I see my grandmother's eyes
A lifetime of courage 
But when I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see a courageous spirit who has still got it
But when I look into my grandmother's eyes
I see a woman who has been strong all her life
Now when I see me
I see my grandmother's legacy
And now that I know me
I will carry her torch
Through future generations 
Because when i see me 
I see my grandmother

Details | Layla Riley-Hill Poem

The many suicides of black men

The many suicides of black men

Black men deserve love too
Even if its just a simple 'I love you'

The world tells them they have to be tough
But enough is enough 

If you're complicit
In being a witness
Of their mental health issues
Don't be confused
If they choose suicide 
Don't be surprised 
I mean you didn't care when they were alive
So dont you dare cry

How many times are we going to let this happen?
How many times will we as a society ignore  them?

Because our black men deserve better
They deserved to be treasured
Because if we don't we'll lose them forever 
As a society we can let them suffer
But we can be their protectors

Details | Layla Riley-Hill Poem

You are not the victim

You are not the victim
Stop trying to manipulate the situation
We are all seeing
We are all knowing
We are all loving
Not you
So when we change the narrative
And put your hate in the spotlight
Don't use our discomfort
Our resistance
And our need for justice
As a way to use your tears
To make you the victims
But you won't get our sympathy
Nor our empathy
Your guilt is not our problem
You won't one up us
And we will call your bluff

We have generations of fight in us
You should know this
We have always had to fight for the right to exist
Because of your hatred

So excuse us for not buying it
We have rights and we will not submit
We are not here to coddle your ego
And make you the hero
When your actually the villain

We see right through the bull
That you spew
To manipulate the narrative to suit you
Well  you
It takes a special type of evil
To kill us
Enslave us
Falsely incarcerated us
Exclude us
And every horrible thing you did to our ancestors
The when we speak up
You try to silence us
With your tears

Don't ever try and tell us how to feel
Do
Not
Say that we are always playing the race card
When it was you who did that us
So you could own us

And yes everything is about race
Because you made it about race
The foundation of the world is built
Off of the enslavement
Of us

So try and take a hard look in the mirror
Because it was never about us
Being dangerous
Being predators
Being aggressive
Or being a threat
It was about you throwing a tantrum
About how we consistently rose from the ashes
To take back our freedom
You can't stand our intelligence
Our resistance
Our resilience
You can't comprehend
That no matter what we will always love our blackness
So let us ask you a question
Is it because your jealous

No matter the answer
Your racism disgusts us

Details | Layla Riley-Hill Poem

Emmett Till

I have a story to tell One that doesn't end well So I advise you to take a break For this will cause your heart to ache

A fourteen year old boy Used as a decoy To manipulate and destroy A message sent to employ A hatred to kill joy

He was a child A boy who always smiled With a spirit so wild They defined As something to scrutinise Something to demonise Something to criminalise Which ultimately led to his demise

They spread lies So they could despise Without having to apologise So they could victimise The woman to vocalise Her hatred she utilised The power of her eyes And fake cries So they would empathise And not recognise Her plan to intensify Their superiority To keep the minority Without democracy So forever in history We would be seen As an inferiority

Now this is the part What breaks my heart And is forever scarred By their lack of heart

The peaceful night Interrupted by their plight To start a fight Between black and white

Emmett Till was kidnapped He tried to fight back Took from his family home He must've felt so alone He was dragged and beaten His fate already written They took out their weapons Their weapons had spoken And sent that poor angel baby to heaven And if that wasn't enough They decided to have more fun Because they didn't see him as human So with a large metal fan They began To tie it around his neck Without regret But let's not forget The used barbed wire instead Left in the river His killers Whisper They called him a

Details | Layla Riley-Hill Poem

Reclaiming the absence

To be a good father You already have to be a good man But apparently he couldn't be either guess it was just easier For him to be just like his father

Him being a black father Made it harder The stereotypes That followed him around That policed He probably internally agreed He felt it must've been better for him to leave Or Maybe he just doesn't love his kids enough to stay It must've been his generational way

His children understood As best as they could That his father was ed up They just thought he would give them a better childhood

They weren't mad just disappointed They felt neglected Felt unprotected By someone who was supposed to love them They felt stupid They felt empty, like they shouldn't have existed

As they grew up They saw all the other present fathers The pain Of it all began to hit harder They began to wonder If they even mattered

As the years continued on That pain grew stronger Their fathers absence Constantly haunted them Their self hatred grew deeper No amount of therapy made it easier They would always feel inferior

They would never forgive They would never forget

Details | Layla Riley-Hill Poem

If our hair was on trial

If our hair was on trial
And it was called to testify
And tell the truth
Of what the world put it through

It tells the stories
Of all the hairstyles
That it was

It starts with when it was cornrows
It takes the jury back to the fields
Where the blistering heat
Sucked the life out of it
But it tells us a secret
Kept hidden throughout history
Of stories Of survival
To send messages without the slave owners knowing
A way to escape and a form of rebellion
It helped with their freedom

It talks about the how it has been an afro
An act of radical expression
A form of resistance
To say you can't control us
But it also talks about how the system
Tried to silence its existence
And how the ignorant
Took it as an invitation
To touch it without permission

It then talks about all the different braids it was
How it was a form of creative expression
How it captured everyone's attention
In awe of its versatility
But also causing jealousy
This was apart of black legacy

The jury have made their decision
And gone through generations of history
To find our hair not guilty
They offer their apologies
Of the brutality
We endured throughout history
And for us this would be a victory

Details | Layla Riley-Hill Poem

An ode to our ancestors

I am all the people who came before me And I am all the people who will come after me

This is an ode to all of our ancestors Just because we don't all share the same blood Does not not mean that we are not one

To me inheritance Isn't just about family But communal experiences

I inherited my voice From those who were silenced but not quiet

I inherited my purpose From those who didn't get justice

I inherited my essence From ghosts Of our ancestors

I inherited the power of love A force stronger than the hatred They shoved down our throats

I inherited the strength From those who dared to go against the system

What I honour is every black life who fought, spoke and died for us And it would be a dishonour to keep quiet and not speak up

And to them I'm very thankful

And my children will inherit All of the above

An ode to our ancestors

Details | Layla Riley-Hill Poem

Black people don't do therapy

Black people don't do therapy
You'll be seen As a failure
They say we don't share out business with 'strangers'
But those 'strangers' are usually their children's saviours
They are like a safe place
Something their parents never gave them
A safe haven

See what these black parents don't realise
That if they don't start paying attention
To their children
They'll lose them forever
All because to them white validation
Is better than keeping their family together

Apparently they would rather give up their child to suicide
Than give up their pride

Details | Layla Riley-Hill Poem

Modern day versions of lynching

They kept finding different ways to lynch us

Oh we're still spectacles 
They just watch from their smartphones
Watching as we struggle
Watching us be tackled
They don't see us as victims 
Just waiting for a pundit 
To say we deserve it

Let's not forget about the 13th ammendment
Instead of being slaves they just entered our names in the system
As an excuse to reduce us to numbers
Instead of being slaves we were just labelled as criminals
Technically 'slavery' was abolished 
So instead of being whipped 
We were punished 
With imprisonment 
They just found a loophole
A different form of control 

Don't get me started on the education system 
A place where our history is hidden
A place of division 
And preferential treatment 
Of a certain race of students 
They do it just enough
To remind us of our place in this institution 
A constant reminder of how we will never fit in
All because our skin which triggers their racism

If you think racism has ended
Then you're choosing ignorance 
You need to be educated 
But us black people won't do it