Her

I heard that she’s a runner

And plays the violin.

I can tell she has nice hair

And almost perfect skin.

I would think she’s quite smart

By the looks of where she is.

I’m jealous of her hands

Because I know they hold his.

I see she has brown eyes

Though mine are blue.

I’d say we have nothing in common,

But that’s not true.

We both belonged to him

At some point in time.

I’m past, she’s present

I’ll admit he’s no longer mine.