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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 ...

Pull Me In

Pull me right next to your face..
While our hearts race.
Close your eyes..
Between my seldom chatter.
Tripping into a generous laughter.
Pull me right next to your face..
Kissing to ease my pace.
Trap me in a time scatter..
That gets startled by a distant mutter..
Sneaking closer while voices stutter.
Pull me in closer..
Looking if I got any older.
With the air between us getting colder.
As you hold me to leave me..
Back in the same place again.

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