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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 ...

Long After

Long after I am gone ..
Remember I was the one..
That waited for you long enough.
Compared to the shadows..
That fled scared of shun.
Long after I am gone..
Remember I was the one..
That spoke about you among the few.
Compared to the ones that..
Stuck with you just for a drink or two.
Long after I am gone..
Remember I was the one..
Who picked up dark over the spark..
Of a cozy comfort virtue..
Compared to the ones who fled ..
From your side as soon as they got any clue.
Long after I am gone..
Don’t forget me as a residue..
But remember me as the one..
Who followed you after all that I knew..
When everyone else drew..
A change across what they found new.

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