Little Boy Still Every morning, awaken a burdened heart the news the news that mad man’s news He craves attention, doesn’t appear to care if he scorns the world or it demeans him provided his scowl is splashing the screens What happened to this man, a little boy still, held hostage by his tantrums, his craving for care? Poor thing. Too bad the buttons to destroy us all are at his fingertips when what he needs most is tenderness