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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 ...

The Unforgettable




Running into his arms,
As I held him tightly,
Only to the most unlikely,
Found the ship to have changed it’s course slightly..
Slept like a kid all through the night,
Right on his shoulder,
Wishing when my eyes open to grow older,
As fate had defied to get bolder..
Our fingers spoke the same tone,
Trickling laughs to my very bone,
Surprisingly I was left alone,
As he chose the route to be gone..
Neither of our eyes lie nor did they ever asked why,
Perhaps they had lost hopes to try,
I pleaded them not to cry,
While he wiped those drops dry,
Giving out a little sigh..
Walking down the meadow,
As I followed his faint shadow,
Taking my hands closer to his heart,
Whispered..
“A reflection of my soul,
You ended up playing an unforgettable role”..

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