Beautiful Days Of Broketober

In Beautiful days of Broketober
I remember back to that November
when the Autumn mist was so rowdy
and all of my memories were cloudy.
It seemed all so different then.
Logic at that time was a friend.
So many things seem to make sense.
Days of empty words and pretense.
Road was a trip ready for travel.
But then things started to unravel.
Logic was truth but void of emotion.
Destiny became a drop in the ocean.
I became a character out of sinc.
I felt so much like a missing link.
The road to nowhere had an end.
The dawn of a new birth begin.
I got to know this strange way.
Shackles fell off like weak clay.
A cold shoulder lost its effect.
I got to know self circumspect.
I met me on the lost highway
hitching a ride to my way
looking like a hobo tramp
trying to find my off ramp.
And now that I am much older
still beautiful days of Broketober.