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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 ...

Everyone



Not everyone will miss you.
Not everyone will love you.
Not everyone will see you.
Nor seek you..
Or hold you..
And not everyone will understand you.
Not anyone will make you cry.
Not anyone will fetch you lie.
Not anyone will take you.
Or shake you.
And push the world for you.
If that one does..
If that one you find.
Then even a single moment counts.
And even a nickel mounts.
That one can be anyone among everyone.
But if that one did pause time.
It’s not to be considered mime.
Yet No one is left..
No one can get lonely.
And no one goes dark.
Holding onto the last bark..
But no one is brave teaches you love.
When no one is around.
Standing aloof in the crowd..
Bruised yet healing proud.

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