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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 ...

Scared

Sweating the last drop..
He drags himself.
To the corner of the shelf..
Heart beats faster.
Getting short of breath.
He has to fight death..
Unknowingly alive.
After a deep dark dive.
The room getting darker..
But that isn’t scarier.
As long as there isn’t a tall shadow.
On the wall that swallows.
Making it hard to see..
Making it harder to break free.
His bruised knee..
Urging to flee.
As his body trembles.
Tightening the shake within..
Finding a way to a never ending win.
There lies the key..
Opening to the vast sea.
Emptiness wallows..
Shouting gets unheard..
Until ears ask him to stop being absurd.
There’s a leap.
That gets steep.
A final weep.
With sunset running away..
The moon shines..
Glistening his cry for a while..
With a sudden stop..
Fear ceases..
The breathing eases.
*Dedicated to the children who are tortured by wrong doers until they stop fighting back one day.

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