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An Empty Chair

“An Empty Chair” By  Pratiksha Misra From morning cereal, To an evening affair, What never was around, Was an empty chair.. From an angry state, To a cry for an extra bread to spare, What never was around, Was an empty chair.. From the fresh water fish, To the piping hot biryani, Served in a silver dish, From crying babies, To toddler care, From trying outs, To wedding outfits, What never was around, Was an empty chair.. From laughter roar, To midnight chuckles, From quieter score, To quilted giggles, From a spicy gravy, To sour taffy, From bitter to sweet, There was always dessert in the fridge, And a smiling nudge at the topmost layer, What never was around, Was an empty chair.. Now since you are gone, There is no winner at the dinner, No one asks what you would Like to eat, No one sits and repeats, How a dish tastes, It all ended too soon, How is that fair? That now instead of you, What we have is an empty chair.. *On this occassion of Thanksgiving, what my family craves for is ...

Pretences

I get tired of smiling at times..
Heart raging with anger but struggle to utter a single word of profanity..
Loved someone till death but that someone couldn’t risk his freedom ..
Every moment seems to be an illusion as I want to be me but couldn’t be..nobody wants to see the real me..


With despair I run far away from truth to pursue me harder..
Only to risk my life with loneliness.
Is this what we call life…I live every day as they say ..
Carving thoughts out of clouds , singing in the rain, wiping the window pane,humming with the bird while walking down the meadows..
Chasing the sunset ..splashing water running along the shore..
Lying right next to him talking through the night till the sun lights up his face..
Knowing days will pass by but no wishes to fear.
Look what I become where wants haunt me ..and desire lures me keeping me on my toes never letting me breathe the fresh air..
It’s not who I am..running just makes this worse

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