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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 ...

Too Much To Wish

I wish you could say something..
I wish I could ask anything.
I wish you just turn around..
Whenever I miss you are found.
I wish your eyes just talk..
Wherever I go they walk.
But wishes are lies..
Once you wake up they fly.
Never wish too much..
There’s no touch in emptiness.
There are no words in loneliness.
All that remains is a reflection..
That took an arbitrary direction.
I wish to wish nothing..
When too much is bizarre.
A door at a step ahead..
Into an obsolete layer.
Not a word said..
With your wishes ousted.

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