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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 ...

Don't Wait

Don’t wait on me..
I might be the one you.
Will never see.
Don’t wait on me..
There’s probably more..
You want to hear..
Besides gluing yourself to a no ear.
Don’t wait on me..
With all the fear inside..
It’s never worth the ride..
Make your life spread over wide.
Don’t wait on me..
As truth is that..
I never left your side..
Still sitting looking at you…
When I watch the high tide..
While waves touch my feet…
Melting down the sand’s fleet..
A want to cease the water as they meet..
For a few seconds dirty but..
Drenching them neat.
Those seconds of liberty..
Pops a smile like the painted street…
Where you never end up to sleep.
But draw a picture closer to keep..
Don’t count on me..
I was never that deep.

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