Prena Poetry

you see, there was once a man in my neighbourhood. he usually wore a dark green gho and faded socks to his job somewhere.

he was a nice man in late 20s that’s what i was told by the older women who basked in the sun and waited for their alcoholic men. he always had his clean kabney folded in his arms and carried an old laptop bag. he will get a beautiful wife that’s what i heard from his mother who actually lived in another district.

often, he would buy chewing gums for the kids in the neighbourhood, and labour at the chorten construction. we loved him for he felt like a man who had kindness in every fibre of him. often, he would call our mothers as sister

and help them lift groceries. he’s a nice man that’s what my father said when we invited him over a dinner but it was 9.15 at night and he didn’t come, my mother sent me over to his house only to find him hanging at the edge of his clean white kabney even then he looked like a really nice man.

it has been years now

no one never knew who he was,

even his mother who often visits us today.

he was just a nice young man

in the neighbourhood

i don’t know