House 56
In the dark closet in House 56
There was a little music box that went clickity click.
The grandma that owned it before she died
Said, “Don’t you play it or Jack will come by.”
Now the son that owned House 56,
Opened the closet because he heard a clickity click.
He was too old to remember dear grandma’s words,
So he obtained the music box that was making a stir.
He didn’t find it right away at first,
Hidden away in the back shelf by granny’s nurse. . .
The music box was making quite a click-click,
He followed the sound and grabbed it lickity split!
Poor Johnny was curious for he was still a young gentleman--
He examined the box, at the tag, at the make, and was filled with a young boy’s adrenaline!
The music box seemed to beg, seemed to scream--
Johnny boy’s curiosity was bursting at the seams!
The music box had a little handle,
Worn from the years, surely playing it wouldn’t cause such a scandal?
Poor Johnny dear grasped the handle, turning it slowly,
A beautiful sound escaped the little box, causing Poor Johnny to gasp, “Holy Smokes!”
He turned and turned around and around,
Hoping a little Jack-in-the-box would pop out--
Turning and turning and turning and turning,
Johnny’s heart was very much yearning!
The sound filled the room and filled the house,
Johnny waited, quiet as a mouse. . .
Now all of House 56,
was filled with the sweet music!
Now the song was coming to an end,
And still, the little Jack did not pop out, where is Johnny’s little friend?
Finally, the handle stopped going round,
Johnny’s hopes went down.
He placed the music box back in the closet,
Now to bed he went.
Johnny twisted and turned in his bed,
Dreams of horror and death filled his head!
But loudest of all that filled his dreams--
was the music box’s melody!
The soft and sweet symphony,
turned into a horrid cacophony!
Johnny awoke with a jolt, and to his surprise, there was the music box,
Right on his lap, it sat, it made him stop,
Wasn’t it in the closet before?
Johnny was fearful, there was an eerie tension in the air.
He ran his shaking fingers through his hair.
Not convinced that it was real, he reached for the box, his fingers shaking,
No, it was there was no mistaking!
His fingers touched the surface,
then pop it opened there he was little Jack, Johnny boy was very nervous.
The Jack was not a normal one,
He jumped around with sharp teeth of joy, “Oh Johnny just you wait the fun has just begun!”
Johnny boy looked on with horror,
the little man doing his dance of murder.
With skin of grey that was once white,
His teeth were so sharp they would bring a painful bite.
His clothes once bright,
now dark as night.
This was the little man but Jack had worn with age,
but here he was ready to play!
His devilish eyes gleaming,
Johnny’s nerves failed him and he started screaming.
Jack laughed with delight,
He jumped around happily absorbing Johnny’s fright.
Johnny didn’t know what to do,
he needed to trap this fiend back in the box!
Lock it tight, buckle it up!
“Johnny, Johnny,” said the toy, “Trying to trap me, little boy?”
“No of course not never would I!”
“I see your thoughts don’t even try!”
The little toy then bounced around, the tune of the music box filling the room,
the toy was as murderous as he ever could be, honing his rage in his old boxy tomb!
Jack remembered the Granny who locked him away,
now here was her grandson, here to play!
Now that the sick granny was rotting in her grave,
Jack would have to find someone else to take out his rage.
When he was awoken from his slumber due to the curious Johnny, he smiled with hunger,
“Johnny boy, I was locked up for too long,” the toy snapped his fingers to the beat.
“I lay in the box in the deadest of sleep.”
Poor Johnny’s sheets began to dampen, his eyes wide with shock,
“What? Shocked about a toy that could talk?”
Johnny felt a bit woozy here he was in House 56,
Jack had escaped look at this!
Now at this moment poor Johnny dear,
remembered his sweet Granny’s words!
“Jack is a fiend and a devil,” Granny said, “a heart of black, his anger grows but he sleeps.”
Granny on her death bed whispered eyes full of fear, “Don’t let him out you hear?”
Johnny being a younger boy, tried to remember her words,
But as you can see he had forgotten them and Jack is free.
Jack his eyes were so beady and black,
Was ready to attack.
In the House of 56,
Satan himself awoke to watch Jack and his little tricks.
Johnny should have just let the closet in House 56 be,
walk along leave the clickety-click in the closet be.
But Jack was alive and well,
anger foaming, hunger as well.
“Johnny Johnny, I smell your fear.”
“Please don’t kill me, I mean you no harm! It was my Granny who done you wrong!”
“Your Granny your Granny!” Jack scuffed. “Your Granny broke my heart. . .”
“Oh please, oh please, little toy! You are old and quite a wretch!”
It was here that poor Johnny boy quaked in his pants!
“Little toy do please, Granny broke your heart, not I!”
The toy laughed and laughed some more,
As if he’d let the poor boy go!
“I have done nothing to you! Let me live this night!”
The little toy then drew silent,
his thoughts were whirling his plans were violent!
“You are the only one here to pay! For poor Granny writhes in her grave.”
Jack the toy was pleased--
Oh yes, the little toy was not done speaking yet.
“Come on Johnny lets not wait,” the toy bounced, “Johnny Johnny is here to play!”
“Lets not waste anytime, Jack is finally here to stay!”
“No one not even poor Granny can save you or lock me away!”
The toy did laugh and Johnny did shiver,
He knew his fate was sealed.
“Jack! Jack!” The toy did cry,” Laughing Jack is here to play! Come on Johnny let me stay!”
On this once peaceful quiet night in House 56,
the screams of poor Johnny boy filled the night.
Even on this lovely day,
You can still here the little music box far away.
If you happen across a house of 56,
listen close and just wait, you may hear the Laughing Jack laughing a bit.
But promise me you won’t linger long,
The toy Jack will lure you in with his song.
And as of the poor boy Johnny. . .
He is still there with the toy Jack, being his playmate for all of time.
Now Granny Granny watches in her grave,
what has become of her grandson makes her writhe.
Go to the graveyard late at night,
down the street of House 56. . .
there stand above a certain Granny’s grave and you can her here moaning and groaning.
For what you don’t know is Granny is cursed for breaking the heart of the poor Jack toy.
This isn’t the last of House 56,
or of the music box that goes clickity- click.
Or of the grey worn down little Jack,
or the evil deeds of the sad little toy, with a heart of black.
But as far as Death is concerned,
Poor Johnny boy still screams for his Granny, while she writhes in her grave, poor grammy. . .
Now these little tales made by Death,
please take note and keep them until your final breath.
For if you choose not to heed His Words,
in hell you shall be wrapped with cords.
Like Granny here she broke the toy’s heart,
forever cursed, buried 6 feet under the worm infested dirt.
Granny dear and now poor Johnny,
picked their fate those stupid dolts.
Now it is Death who tells their stories,
dear child seize your worries.
It is not I who want you dead,
you will bring Death upon yourself if you don’t use your stupid head.
If you come across House 56,
don’t linger unless you wish to experience the pain Jack inflicts.
By now I’ve lingered here far to long,
it is time for Death to be gone.
Back to the shadows I hide,
waiting for the next prey to come by.
My pen in hand and notebook held dear,
to write the stories of the very things you fear.
Now come by soon and just you wait,
Death has come and here to stay.
Stories galore come and play. . .
