There Is A Beautiful Song

There is a beautiful song inside me that I cannot put out, it is singing in caresses free but also, it has its doubt. I cannot but sing with it too for it is the garden inside, flowers of bougets so blue that blossom but likewise do hide. I am from inside on growing for a bouget of times and taste, it's flowers of nowhere going on memories and dreams based. I cannot but sing in my garden when fragrance goes through the air, and when winter darkens and harden the flowers in bouquets are here. These wonderful ways of years that never for a minute stood still, gave pleasures but also tears and some of my dreams did fulfill. But now is the day in the going of times that have gone and given, and I in my heart am knowing that I was for something liven.