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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 ...

Forget

Don’t come near me..
I might as well forget you.
Stop looking for me..
I might as well forget you.
Don’t look out for me..
I might as well forget you.
Stop Popping by..
Withholding sigh.
Sweaty feet..
To a chaotic beat.
Don’t you ever look back..
I might as well forget you.
Don’t you ever think what happened..
I might as well forget you.
Don’t you walk alone..
I might as well forget you.
Don’t you pretend you are listening..
I might as well forget you.
Don’t know when..
Don’t know why.
I am trying hard not to retrace..
Cease my gallop into haze.
Following the bursted empty blaze..
Smoke choking into my arms.
But I can’t possibly forget..
The last gaze.
Yes I still..
But I will.

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