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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 ...

Beyond The Sunny Side

There were hands holding me..
Fingers that covered my eyes..
World to me was folded..
Within sugar coated lies.
There were paths defined..
Words to be read underlined..
Walking through forest was undermined..
Underneath the house that shined.
There were shoulders right beside..
Tears that poured where glanced quick and wiped.
Windows that showed dark clouds were exchanged by a fake sunny side..
As soon as failure hit there was always an applaud that you tried.
There were freedom of speech…
Always a pull over right after a screech.
There were sounds of encouragement bugel..
Without the slightest encounter to the gruesome battlefield.
There were bruises accompanied by heed..
There was always someone holding on while they bleed.
As getting wounded was the only way to the set the tears free..
When indeed it was the shortest outcome to which it leads when compared to others that you see..
That’s childhood played for us in repeat…
Where friends and family shadow your scariest defeat..
And loneliness gathers dust right under your feet.
Until one day you confront it all..
Right when you feel proud that there were so many of them..
Guiding you to learn the art of plunge before you finally fall.

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