If I live to be one hundred

If I live to be one hundred I shall revive my friends from the dead by recollecting the times we have shared to the kids whom will learn much more than I will ever know. I will speak of the lonely hill I will speak until they break my will into that turnip hole I will sleep until I hear death's voice creep. I will paint a picture of that jungle and my brothers left in tangle. I will write of the geese flying high and the moment that went a rye. I will always bare these scares and cherish them as memories for my brothers and sisters who will spend tomorrow the way I spent yesterday.