There is an eye that sits on the cracked portion of my ribs. Staring out into the wonderment of expression, and wondering with a biased and cynical concept, oh how Devious the world can be. There is a door at the base of my spine, and it depicts the quality of my fascinations, the near sighted called it Prudent, the far, a disability. Strange, I do wonder what they might say if they knew how far more deeply it were looking into them with every mark of their words.