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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 ...

Impatient



A Swollen Heart.
Comes without a statutory warning.
As the grass still wet from the rains.
The more you try not to think the more it pains.
With Corrosive Shiver.
Trembling nerves unable to deliver.
Eyes quiver refusing anger.
The more you try to forget the more it lingers.
Leaving a Holy Scar.
Smelling earth washed by a heavy shower.
You make up your mind.
But what you are best at is rewind.
Never to Surrender.
While walking through the gate.
As I watched my empty fate
Doesn’t have to be any longer.

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