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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 ...

Undo




Undo the ties..
The unwanted lies.
Undo the why’s..
The unending cries.
Undo the chapters..
With well written ever afters.
Undo the ladder..
Which goes backwards.
Undo the words..
That pulled you down.
Undo the hope..
With a hardwired rope.
Undo the knot..
Tweaking the plot.
Undo the charm..
Before it does any harm.
Undo the thoughts..
Undo the slots..
Undo the moments..
That fetched happiness.
Undo the sight..
Undo the fight..
Undo every right.
Undo that you might..
Undo the wierdest night.
Undo the strangest delight..
Undo the sunset..
Undo the offset.
Undo the click..
Undo every trick.
But while
Undoing the clue..
All you ever knew.
Was there will be few..
That will never undo.

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