Why do I get so mad
Is it because I am bad
It’s like I blow up
over small things in the tin cup.
There is a fire within
Quivering under it’s own thunder
A storm brews inside
My heart that feels as if it’s made of tin
It seems to me a pure wonder
And that I am a different kind.
I know not what it is
I’ve been this way throughout life.
Russell McConkie
9-15-98