But now they manage me, it seems;
of them, I'm so aware!
They pierce right through
and jab my soul.
There's no protective layer!

No longer am I tough and staid.
The tables have been turned!
And all my former traits have been
adjusted, lost or burned!

So, here I am; quite sensitive
to all that comes my way.
No more, the tough guy in the role
which Bogart, once would play.

Is this way really envious?
Am I, not prone to bruise?
I didn't have much say in this;
I wasn't asked to choose.

I just woke up one day and found
my life was upside-down.
Instead of Captain of my ship,
I was a Circus Clown!

So, now I wear a big red nose;
a jester, not a Lord.
And only do I travel roads,
where I've, not yet explored!

I'm sensing things, of late, of which
I've never had a dose,
and casting out so very much
to which I, once was close.

Now, sounds bring meaning to my ears,
where once, 'twas only noise.
My eyes see things they long have missed.
I view new pains, new joys.

The Sunday morning sermons
are composed with me in mind.
The message is addressed to me!
Each one, that way, I find.

When authors tell a story,
I seek not, to find escape.
I strive to feel what drove those words
to take their final shape.

I'm brethren to the poets, now;
they seem to speak to me.
All hap'nings seem to be by plan.
I'm where I'm s'possed to be.

And even in your presence,
this alertness is my mate.
My senses are on duty;
it is now my common state.

When near enough to you,
before it mixes with the air,
your breath and all its warmth, I feel;
so tender, like a prayer.

Like witnessing a pleasure,
just from one quick little peek,
my nostrils know the scent of you
when near to me, you speak.