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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 ...

Last Night

Last night I kept thinking about you..
Even though you didn’t want me to.
The words filled in a stare..
The walks ending unaware.
Smiles which dropped in..
Promises that fell thin.
Last night I kept sulking about you..
Even though you had asked me not to.
The falsehood pride..
An egoistic ride.
Suddenly a lone confront..
Even though you sat right in front.
Last night I slept ceasing a few..
Moments spent all with you.
Tears pushing through my eye lids..
Going red while holding those orchids.
The first kiss with a light rinse..
Breathing the last sigh.
In deep slumber was I.

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