I Can't Blind I'm See

I am below, above and about The left side right Around the inside of out I am correct even when I'm not even close to Being right beside a question Why, what would one want with a knob to a door? Thats opened wood would reveal a room without a floor? This thing of living life, it's just so freaking great It's enough to make one drive one's self to seal one's own fate Now I must stop, to see the roses drink a tincture So they then can step back, and smell the big picture And I, on my way, I part ways with worried words Finally canned, can't forget, can divide one into three thirds