us beasts, with terrible claws and yellow eyes rule the untamed jungle. then on white sails blown with rebellious wind thrashed a child's dream. the one with pointy crown, wolfish grin and solitude, joined the group. max the wildest king, beat us up with his roar. filling harsh lungs without love, or bedtime stories.
"I don't write for children. I write, and somebody says, 'That's for children.'" -- Maurice Stainback