• YouTube - White Circle

©2019 by Josh Lasi. Proudly created with Wix.com

THE ROOM

I’ll invite yall into my house,

At first glance all’s clean.

Bookshelves stacked with knowledge, but,

Spend more time and you’ll smell something mean.

 

Don’t let it irritate you

Come and sit down at my table.

It’s made of dark oak.

No distractions turn of the cable.

 

Here I baked you some bread

My recipes called advice.

Come, hold the loaf in your hand

Doesn’t it look nice?

 

Now you cut it open

And under the surface, mold.

It’s happened before

Or so I’ve been told.

 

Please Forget it though

Feel free to look around.

This is my living room

Where my memories are found.

 

Shelves line the walls,

Items stacked on them.

Their all just symbols.

Look here’s a gem.

 

That? It’s just a mask.

Wait, why is it smiling?

Shouldn’t you get it?

With all this evidence compiling.

 

Don’t worry about it.

I don’t wear it anymore.

The new one is on my desk

Waiting and watching the door.

 

See, it's waiting on my return.

To be put on again.

I’m gonna throw it away

I just don’t know when.

 

Back to the living room

Let’s just adore

These white walls, wait!

Their rotting at the core.

 

Streaks of black mold

Travelling through small crevices.

I turn around just to see

Your disgusted faces.

 

I think it’s time.

Come, I'll show you the door.

Please leave now

There’s something I can’t ignore.

It’s this foul smell

All the mold and Decay

Where did it come from?

From where did it stray?

 

Close the door, Great!

Alone, standing in the hallway,

These walls are ill too.

Oh my, what a horrid display.

 

I’ve had enough of this.

No more time to deny

Something dead’s living here.

Where? I’ll identify.

 

Follow the ragged black lines

That line all these walls.

Looking like lightning's sinister streaks

Shooting through the halls.

 

Getting thicker and thicker

As I approach the room,

Which I shouldn’t have access too.

In fact it’s a bedroom.

 

The entrance is guarded

By a door of pine.

Wonderfully crafted

Beautiful in its original design.

 

But it's surrounded, engulfed

In a choke hold of mold.

The black tar clinging

At the door’s threshold.

Then I finally see.

The darkness isn’t there to undertake

An assault on the door.

No, this is the outbreak.

 

The source festers

Behind this wooden gate.

I shouldn’t open the door

But by now it’s too late.

 

I know what’s behind it

I shouldn’t enter yet.

 I’ve done it in the past

And I'll do it again I’ll bet.

 

This place is saved for my future

But now that it’s been inhibited.

I got to approach it

To extinguish the thread.

 

Push the door open slowly

Check my back to know

That there’s no one watching.

Or following my shadow.

This is the master bedroom

Unused is what it should be.

But someone’s living here

And it’s not me.

 

The bed looks clean

It's big, fit for two.

Except the left sides used,

Underneath lies a shoe.

 

It’s the end of a red heel

Poking out from underneath.

Smelling rotten,

What else is beneath.

 

It’s a pair of trash bags.

One red the other black

Both bulging full of trash.

O well, let’s go back.

 

Zoom out, take it in

The room in its entirety.

It’s beautiful.

Designed with integrity.

 

Infiltrated by Lust

The door opened by desire.

Now she lives here

Her lies, spreading wildfire.

 

The closet to the left

Holds her red dress.

Candy to the eye.

That seducing mistress.

 

Step to the right,

 Of the white carpet,

 The adjacent bathroom

Is our next target.

 

She’s gotten comfortable

All set and moved in.

Her toothbrush by the sink

I should throw it in the bin.

 

But not tonight

So I’ll let her stay.

The rack holds her towel

It’s not just myself that I betray.

 

Whoever moves in one day

Will have to fight what remains.

And the scars she’s laid

The beds filled with her stains.

 

For now, all I can say

Is that I'll clean out one day,

But not today. I’ll let her remain.

Close the door and go on my way.

Eventually the time will come

When I'll clean house.

Replace the red for the white

A mistress for a spouse.

 

Too bad the bags remain

The mount of trash that’s festered.

Leaching through the walls

Filth since the day it entered.