What was lost, wasn't. <br />What was stolen, remains. <br />What was removed, holds. <br />When I began to dream these truths it gave me solace. <br />A kind of peacefulness. <br />The rain can wet my clothes, but it can't touch my soul. <br />The winds can cause me to chill, but can't blow from me my spirit. <br />What was doesn't matter, only now does. <br />What remains, is just that. <br />What holds cannot be removed, as it is a part of me now.<br /><br />Bullion Grey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-kind-of-peacefulness/
