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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 ...

Weeping Mad

They keep talking to your eyes
But whatever they say are just lies
While they instantly make up for your why's
As you always handle their cries
That trickle for no rhyme or reason
That juggle between temperaments independent of any season

They keep looking into you
But I am pretty sure they look through you
While they have every clue how to replace the truth
As you always get to dismantle...
Those pieces of the puzzle that prick you deep
By picking them which you cannot stop yourself but keep that one..
That finally revealed to be broken bad..
From the very beginning..
And now you are weeping mad...



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