Sometimes I get a fire in my throat,
It builds and grows,
Evechialy it must come out of my mouth.
Sometimes in one long ear-splitting sound,
or other times in a huff of smoke.
If it doesn't come out,
I turn into something of red and strained.
I just might grow a long tail and wings,
So I can fly to a place to stay
and away from anyone's sight.
There I can expel each vile thing that I have in myself.
Only then will I turn back to normal
and live like everyone else.