Every year another candle
Every year another list
Every year another number
Every year yet more are missed
And every year on streets we gather
To hear an endless list of names
To ensure they’re not forgotten
Or just another fading flame
With each teardrop we remember
Every teardrop shares the pain
In every teardrop that they shed
And the fear it might return again
So every year on streets we gather
To listen, as the list is read
Not for us, and not for action.
We gather to respect our dead.
So, International Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDoR) rolls round again, and the death toll never fails to shock me.
238 murdered for daring to be who they are.
And this isn’t taking into account unreported murders, or those driven to suicide.