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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 Endless Wait

On the bench beside the railway tracks.
He had turned his back as trains kept passing by..
The moments spent with her going back and forth in his mind.
It’s just the wait is endless never to leave behind.

While the waves crash on the rocks..
Birds flock through the empty sky.
As the little girl runs towards the sunset.
Looking for tiny paws running back to her.
Where only the dusk knows fate never defers.

Getting darker..
She sits sticking her ears to the door.
As starts the never ending downpour..
Just like the day before.
Making the windows shudder..
With each hour echoing louder.

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