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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 ...

Darkness

Distant words..
An awkward whisper.
Twinkling dishes..
And a sneaky slipper.
The warmth of a mother..
Pain of a smother.
The wrath of a bother..
Hussle from a gather.
New born squirm..
Midnight glowworm.
Trapped in a kiss..
Last minute stitches.
The seamless moon..
With a hidden tune.
A lonely walk..
And troublesome talk.
An unknown sign..
A puzzled line.
Love spelled wrong..
The end stretched long.
Drops dry up..
Felt a knock at the door.
That could be you..
Don’t want to go if that’s not true.
With heavy knot..
Eyes start to give up.
But thoughts just stare..
Hard to fight flare.
As the dark sinks in.
Beneath the night..
The mind goes thin.
Darkness is mean..
While life turns unseen.

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