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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 ...

Tell Me

Tell me that you love me..
And I don’t.
Tell me that you left me..
And I won’t.
Tell me that you forgot..
And I didn’t.
Tell me that you got me..
While I couldn’t.
Tell me that’s what fools do..
Tell me that’s what you always knew.
Tell me that unlike you..
I wasn’t going to.
Tell me you sensed trust..
But you couldn’t just.
Tell me that you went wierd..
While for me was empathy smeared.
Tell me that you had filled in..
While I was spilled thin.
Tell me some words..
Tell me nothing works..
Tell me long before..
As you weren’t even planning..
To step outdoor.
While I keep counting over and over..
Your footsteps galore.

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