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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 ...

It's A Ghost Town

A torn newspaper flying through..
The empty streets..
Anxious eyes spying through ..
The windows of their royal seats.
Shining as a naked sword once without a crown..
As the road spreads into a lost crowd..
Turned to be a Ghost Town.


What message does it send ..
Maybe an end to a hideous pretend ...
People ain't immortal..
Death in it's abundance swirl..
Will this ever bother to lie down..
As everyone hates talking...
About the Ghost Town.


What lies beyond death is unknown...
Thats told to people in a heavy tone...
Screaming into the microphone while standing alone.

Soon dusk will brisk away...
Not changing stone...
Kids have abandoned the playgrounds ..
Where sounds used to get drowned ...
A couple holds hands as they stray across...
Skinned out souls loose logical bones. 
In the corner stares a sarcastic clown..
Perhaps this is the beginning of a never ending Ghost Town..

Piles of leaves unravelled..
Someone's old clothes lying next to the trash can..
Shades of color says that spring is here..
But there's a shadow with drops of tear..
In the hideaway..
It's getting dark I shouldn't be near..
So what he is a friend so dear..
One cannot fight fear...
Running away faster....
Clearly out of this Ghost Town.





 

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