It sits in a corner collecting dust,
there is no one to lovingly pick it up and strum it,
The sounds of songs long passed haunt the halls,
The abandoned little house sits below the surface,
Bright colours swim through the windows around the useless telly,
Sandy draws and torn clothes skitter upon the waves,
The family still tied to the chairs they drowned in,
People wonder what happened to them,
Know one looks below the waves. Know one knows it's secrets.
