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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 ...

Try Life

Try life..
For sometime.
And then you..
Make it rhyme.
Until it turns slime..
Or truth fails to chime.
Shout it loud..
Hold it proud.
Avoid the crowd..
Take it top to the cloud.
Try it until ..
You have seen it all.
Try it until..
You refuse the fall.
Take the dip..
Lick the sip.
Make it trip..
While you whip.
Try steep..
Try deep .
Try getting creep..
But do dare weep.
Never skip..
Nor flip.
Never shy..
Nor cry.
Always try..
To defeat why.
And don’t let death..
Take your breath.
Just hold on..
As every moment.
Is born.

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