donald kuutsi

(HARARE, Zimbabwe / 9 july 1991)

Coming Home [Seven Wounds Of The Goodwill Hunting]


I m coming home,
I m almost there,
I coming home,
A place where my heart belongs,
I lost my soul in the woods,
In search of goodwill hunting,
Seven SEASONS of goodwill hunting,
In the woods l lost peace,
My heart is now in pieces,
I lost my soul in the woods,
I m almost there,
But l m exhausted,
I have succumbed to the harsh coldness in the woods,
I don't have much energy
Stretch your hands,
Please don't let me fall,
Leave the doors wide open,
I don't have the energy to open them,
The scars and wounds of goodwill hunting are so deep,
Stretch your hands, the wounds are drenching my energy,
Don't let me fall,
My soul is paralyzed,
Struggling to breathe once again,
Along my way,
The scars are making me breathless
I have a fury in my soul,
I have a story to tell you,
I m coming home,
My soul has succumbed to the harsh weather
My soul is exhausted,
l m coming home
Where my heart belongs,
Where my soul will be ignited with warmth to heal the wounds from the woods,
That's why l coming home….

Submitted: Friday, March 08, 2013
Edited: Friday, March 15, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Coming Home [Seven Wounds Of The Goodwill Hunting] by donald kuutsi )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]