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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 ...

For Someone

This begins..
This ends.
This never wins..
Creating ripples till the end.
This is a wait..
With no further desire.
This is a gate..
With shadows dragging to offend.
This is it..
That has to fit.
This will stay..
As long as you play.
This is the reason..
This is the final season.
This will soon go away..
When you turn the blinds.
This has happened before.
This might lead you to a closed door..
But..
It’s just a day.
Be happy for you have come..
A long way.
As you keep longing..
to be.
to see..
And keep everyday with you..
Amongst the very few.

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