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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 ...

Labyrinth

I fell down
amid the streets 
got up
dusted myself
wishing 
noone had seen
how I have been
wishing a path
to light beyond
this wrath
to fight beyond 
this aftermath 
but nothing so far
wishing for 
the next turn
after this heavy run 
that can predict 
that the fall can be fun
wishing for
lesser bleed
that doesn't stain the meed
but only
calms down the greed
within that
speaks of being sober 
wishing for
greater stride
when I climb down 
the mountain of pride
while I see faces
that grinched 
at me over and over
wishing fate
to debate
until after
the slate to
be wiped clean
from constant slaughter
wishing pain
to be part
of very much
everything
so that you 
aren't left alone
under a sad looking stone 

*pic courtesy pinterest art collection

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