The air is sharp,

Cutting through me like a knife.

My coat flaps in the night air,

As if it wants to escape my body.

It seems a little colder, on nights like these.

Red lights flicker around

Scanning the buildings in their glow.

The darkness of the alley is a barrier,

Separating me from the chaos within.

Chaos grows strong on nights like these.

I walk forward,

Boots crunching on the gravel,

Alerting the rats to my presence

As they squeal into the dark.

Do they enjoy nights like these?

I freeze at the form beneath me

Motionless, I almost didn’t see it.

A foul odor breaks the silence,

Reminding me why I’m here.

Blood runs fresh on nights like these.

I reach for my flashlight

She lay in a dark pool,

As dark as the scene before me.

As dark as nights like these.

I scan for evidence,

As naturally as eating breakfast;

Motives, motives are what I need,

Who, What, When, and Why?

Questions go unanswered, on nights like these.

I snuff out the light

Hopefully as fast as hers was snuffed.

I crunch back to my car,

Out to make the dreaded call.

One too familiar on nights like these.

I hang up once I’m done;

I’m like a kid with a used puzzle box,

Knowing I’m short a few pieces

I can’t make the full picture.

And there are no clues on nights like these.

Sadly, she won’t be the last

This city wears death proudly,

Like a badge of honor.

And I’m just the janitor.

That’s why, I hate nights like these.