Pizza Bob Poem by Robin Skyrde

With remorse I watch it,
wondering why; It felt,
no, simulated.
My betrayal.

Intruders within my own skull.
Meddling with the native state.
I know that it is illogical,

Yet it continues to stalk me.
With frustration I seek it,
to abolish it; fog-like and,
untrue, as it is.

A fear of Death can urge you farther,
muster within you the strength, to live a life,
of fullness.

Perhaps a life of foreign convictions,
can establish, a similar effect?
Likely not, it matters the individual.
And unlike our perishing;
Known and certain.
It is ghostly.

To walk in step with God,
or to brave the wilderness of uncertainty.

They said to me, 'The Truth shall set you free! '
But I know no such thing.