Bruce the Spruce was a Christmas tree;
     he lived on Christmas Farm.
Each night he dreamed that he could bring
     cheer into someones home.

He stretched his branches every day
     and squeezed his needles tight,
so he could be a perfect tree
     for holding Christmas lights.

Every year at Christmas time
     Bruce did as he was taught.
He showed all of his Christmas charm,
     hoping he would be bought.

The people came from miles around
     to buy their Christmas Trees.
They pulled and tugged at branches
     and gave the twigs a squeeze.

They looked for trees just the right size,
     with needles that would stay,
trees that gave a Christmas smell
     to brighten Christmas day.

Bruce was a perfect Christmas tree;
     the children seemed to love him.
But Bruce was small and other trees
     still towered high above him.

The years went by and Bruce the Spruce
     eventually grew tall.
His branches spread and held their form;
     they didn't droop at all.

But there were many Christmas Trees
     that grew on Christmas Farm
and no one ever seemed to pick out Bruce,
     with all his charm.

Bruce grew so sad as years went by;
     it seemed he'd grown too tall.
It seemed that he would never be
     a Christmas tree at all.

When the new families came each year
     to buy trees for their home,
they never looked at Bruce the Spruce;
     he stood there all alone.

Bruce never forgot Christmas;
     it brightened all his dreams.
Yet, in the light of each new day,
     he lost his Christmas schemes.

One day a truck came to the farm;
     men came with saws and rope.
They came to cut the tallest tree;
     Bruce finally lost all hope.

"My time has come; Ive grown too old,"
     his arms trembled in fear.
"I'm only good for firewood now;
     I've seen my final year."

They cut him down and tied him to
     the flatbed truck they brought.
They drove away, while Bruce the Spruce
     lie weeping on the truck.

Bruce closed his eyes and fell asleep;
     he dreamed of silent nights,
of children's smiling faces,
     of gifts and colored lights.

When Bruce awoke He couldn't hold
     back all of his delight.
Bruce couldn't believe what he saw;
     his branches all had lights.

His arms were filled with tinsel.
     Children were gathered round.
Everyone was cheering
     and laughing on the ground.

Bruce looked around in ecstasy;
     he couldn't help but stare.
Bruce had become the Christmas tree
     that now adorned Times Square.

I am no longer the
Steady thrum of heartbeats
When issues against women are
Comically displayed on televisions.
Like there's something to
Laugh, guffaw, snicker, snort--
Tell you what, I can name a little
Too many synonymous words
And I can slap them all to your face, too.

I am no longer a suppressed voice,
Unable to tell you and all the other people
That as a girl (and a woman, later),
I have the right to be here.
I have the same rights to life,
To be alive, to be secure,
To have a good life!
And yet, you, who calls yourself a
Man of power, tells me,
"You are nothing."

I am angry with the absurdity
Of it all. Men continuing to abuse,
Women constantly cowering down--
Why are you so intent on showing power
When you are not God?
Why are you so afraid of fighting
For yourself?

I am seething with rage
For those who refuse to accept
Feminism just for the reason
That they do not want to be labeled--
Well, guess what? They have already
Shoved you underneath Weak and Submissive.
Who taught you that you are born
To impress men?
Who taught you that you only exist
To please them?

I will not have any of that ****.
I am a person of my own.
I am a human being, with rights.
And I AM FIGHTING to have
The same rights as you do.
Whoever told you that that's
Never gonna happen, can shove it up
Their *****.

I will not sit still on my chair while
The next police officer
Asks "Well, what were you wearing?"
To the next **** victim.
You and I both know that is not
The issue here.
No girl should hung their head in shame
That they got touched without consent.
It's not their fault! No one
Deserves to be *****.
And no, it's not snuggling, for you who
Even thought **** jokes on t-shirts
Are funny. It's not.

I am for Gender Equality.
For both men and women,
Gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender,
To be treated with equal respect.
With equal opportunities.
With equality.
With no judgment.
Why must you counter that?

Look, I've been sitting in that same chair
For too long while issues spread and get
Larger like the plague.
I thought, let them handle it.
I thought, a small voice would be of no help.
But when did sitting down and staring
Get people somewhere?
When did any of passivity help us?

We already have everything to lose
So why not fight?
Bruce Banner told the other avengers
The secret of Hulk.
And I tell you the same:
Get angry.
Smash inequality.
I will always be right behind you.