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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 ...

Can I ?

Can I walk with you ?
But I might give up in few..
And you might still not..
Thinking this is all very new.
But the way to drops of dew..
Hasn’t exactly shaped up like you drew.
Will you meet me at the end ?
I don’t even know if ..
All of this awaits amend.
While I might get..
Rotten blend..
Not considered to apprehend.
So stop being offend..
Telling yourself..
What’s broken can be mend.
Is this you ?
Yes I failed to be true..
But I can see..
Your eyes have..
Missing glee.
The one I caught..
When they did smile free.
As minds are shallow.
Cause don’t you follow..
That I am just a pretty shadow..
Which hides tomorrow.

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