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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 ...

Turning Pink

It makes me think
That one day the sky
Will turn pink
And at it's  brink
Will be a collection
Of shining stars 
All at once
Filling my eyes 
With glitter

It makes me think
That one day the sky
Will tend to sink
And like a dollop of ink
There will be a piece
Of art
Spread wide across 
Abandoning the moss
Of jitter

It makes me think
That someday the sky
Will roar
After gathering enough
Thunder within
To shudder
A tiny being
That while getting wet
Will still run
Squandering for
Rains will only make
Things harder 

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