Sleep well, my dear child

Song of a Savarna mother

Sleep well, my dear child. You are safe. You are home.

A roof over your head and the world, yours to roam.

Food in your belly. Books in your hands.

About your tomorrow, you have big, bright plans.

Sleep well, my angel, for you have the right name,

You can always rent a house and get a job with no shame,

You’ll never go to jail for almost telling a joke,

Always a seat at the table for being oh-so-woke.

Sleep well, my precious one, for you will never have to plough,

Someone else’s green fields or remove their dead cow,

You’ll never be lynched or hung for the cattle you drive,

And into a filthy cesspool, you’ll never have to dive.

Sleep well, my darling, for you never will be killed,

For the food in your fridge all nice and chilled.

If you burn the broken body of a girl, molested,

Make sure you’re in khakis; you’ll never be arrested.

Sleep well, my beloved child, for you’ll be alright,

You’ll never have to fight to learn or learn how to fight,

You’ll never be reviled or deemed unapproachable,

Shunned. A Pariah. Just a touch Untouchable.

So, if you slept well, my dear, give ear to me,

Wake up. Look around. Open your eyes and See.

The world around you must so shake you to your core,

That any child of mine will sleep well no more.