She smiled at me,
She was another man’s girl.

She talked to me,
She was another man’s girl.

She shared all her secrets with me.
She was another man’s girl.
She was my friend.

She cried on my shoulders.
She was another man’s tormented girl.
She was my best friend.

She told me she wanted to break free.
She was another man’s troubled girl.
She was more than a friend.

She wanted to become someone famous.
She was my girl friend.
Yet, she was another man’s girl.

She said she was torn apart between people.
She was my girl friend.
Yet, she was another man’s girl.

She said she stopped talking to those who hurt her.
She was my girl friend.
She was no more another man’s girl.

She got caught in the other man’s bed.
She was supposed to be my girl friend.
Once again, She was the other man’s girl.

She tried convincing me that it’s alright.
She was in love with the other man.
If that was so, What was I?

She talked me into walking different paths.
I stood there stubbornly. She called me a kid.
She walked away with another man’s side.

She chose to take the path that confused her.
She was indeed another man’s girl.
I clearly saw, she was not worthy being my girl.

She offered me consolation, perhaps a cup of tea.
She was now another man’s girl + another man’s girl.
I refused politely, for I cannot be a victim.
I can no longer be the heartbroken kid.

She still walks alone, confused, in relationships.
She was that other man’s girl or some other man’s girl.
I no longer know the train of chains of bloody shame.
I walked away as the steps of a heartbroken kid.
Now a man, no longer heartbroken.

She was a tale among the mistakes of the young heart.
She perhaps is still another man’s girl.
She is another lost soul in the crowd.

I suddenly realized,
The heartbroken kid
Was not me, from the start.
It was she, the pathetic some man’s girl.