Remember, Remember

There's a light just over yonder hill, a glow like the setting sun; 
mere minutes before midnight came, that sun broke into run; 
southern light filled the sky and spread to north with glee; 
flames locked away behind paper walls since September two thousand and three.

The hands are almost touching, the clock's about to strike;
there will be no pennies for the night's unlucky Guy. 
The pyres they have been building, so long some have forgotten why;
a valuable tradition they say, protection from changing times. 

Who deserves such spectacle, what crime did they commit?
It's Luna from the cafe, who's coffee is always a hit.
'She' dyes her hair and on her apron two words for all to see;
she/her spread her 'transness' in every cup of tea.

But still there's room on the flames, plenty of space to share;
why then is that teacher bound with rope not duty of care?
It's plain to see, is it not, the crime of which 'they're' accused;
he taught my child of the singular they, a pronoun 'they' abused.

And finally, here's himself, our man of the hour came;
this 'guy' chose to follow our rules and use the ladies in shame.
We can't have men in the women's loos, that simply will not do;
even those that used to be... it makes me so confused...

You said that we could speak, before the deed is done;
though I doubt the words I say will save our burning buns.
There is no rhyme nor reason to a lot of these complaints;
yet we face them, they exist, our daily lives they taint.
We just wish to live, to share in your free glee;
keep the flames locked away in two thousand and bloody three.