I am made in private but measured in public. By myself, I carry no weight; among many, I decide an outcome.

Im the act of looking, but I do not interfere, I scan each corner, both far and near. I check each crack, each flaw, each speck, to catch what others might neglect. No guessing games, no wild affect, I’m a simple action, done to detect.

I have five types, most people think four. The fifth is quite rare, humans seek to learn more. Sometimes I’m obvious, red, swollen, foul. Yet other times I’m hidden, no symptoms at all. Treat me too lightly, I may come back strong. Ignore me too long, and things can go wrong.

I keep your history or become a room. Hidden in the roof, I am the last floor of some homes.

Jeff Spicoli learned: No me? No service!