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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 ...

Promise



I see your eyes
All through the dark nights.
When asleep
Dreams diving deep.
Drowning as I try harder to breathe
There are promises to keep.
Your hands still holding me
Tugging me through the streets
When alone
Endless emotions piercing the bone.
Running towards the crowd as I catch my breath.
There are hopes to meet.
The past cannot protect
No matter how hard it affects.
To my inner voice
I make a choice.
The time needs to take a leap.
Though there are scars to seep.
I promise not to weep.

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