The same kind of

The same kind of nights we see the same times a year. People play people, break their hearts then blame the moon and stars, not the beer and the bars, for all the tears. Down the road, round the back. Wake up without recount for who or what was just unluckily near. Bruises take a while to disappear. The same kind of nights we see the same times a year. A sharp dislike is taken for a smile that can soon disappear. Eyes shine in sunlight but hide their plight for the night, for the fear, for the tears. The same kind of eyes seeing for the same kind of minds night after night all through the year. The same kind of nights for the same kind of minds for the same kind of tears.