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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 ...

Empty Basket

All she had was an empty basket..
She could fill it with stones..
Or fill it with bones..
But she wanted to fill it with ..
All the thing that she owns .
Looking up to the stars..
And then her empty basket.
Stood falling all over..
From an empty casket.
Voices traveling through thin air.
She could feel the chilly tear.
And then as a thread crumpled from her dress.
Through the winds she tread for a bread in her basket.
There were few crumbs..
As she closely brushed with her thumb.
Her skin went thin..
While tasting curry dripping up to her chin.
Dreaming was she with open eyes..
Probably her face would now chase away flies.
Laughing as she walked past a glass door..
A girl licked an ice cream which she couldn’t ignore.
She did have a half bread from an apple store..
Tugged it out did someone just shout her name.
Whoever it was she wished for a family to claim.
From the ice cream store marched the girl..
All over the sidewalk an essence did twirl.
Stopped while peeping at her basket..
She ate her bread and smiled as she hid it away.
*dedicated to the little ones who go hungry to bed , life is all but a struggle for the tiniest bread.

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