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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 ...

Unknown

Ears closer to his heart
While Fears settled inside the cart..
A hollow wind
And a subtle tint..
Afraid to touch
But not so much..
As eyes narrated
Worries agitated..
A free mind
Away from the grind..
Holding hands
As fingers talk..
Abrupt footsteps
Stealing a walk..
To return where
The journey stir..
Even though bleak
Couldn’t hide but speak..
Empty clouds descended
Pathways pretended..
Closing eyes gulped tears alone.
Slept dead till dawn
Till she woke up to be called Unknown.  
















Thoughts By - Pratiksha Misra

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