The Window
There it sits on the second floor,
Behind it's glass, lay a world I did not know.
Behind it's glass, lay the stranger's home.
For Seventeen years, it remained unknown.
But now, the window speaks a silent tale of regret and shame.
To those it has left behind.
A secret, forever locked away.
For the living to endlessly ponder in their minds...
This poem, is in tribute to my father The Reverend John Gilmore Patterson III Ph.d. A priest at Grace St. Luke's Episcopal Church in Memphis, TN and a Chaplian to the Mentally ill at Memphis Mental Health Insitute in Memphis, TN
The reason for this tribute is because my father who died when I was 17, believed so firmly in education. He had a bachelors degree as well a Masters degree as well as a Ph.d and a doctrate from the seminary.
He was a major ass hole in life most of the time,,, to me and my mother.. But despite of all the hurt he caused in my life;I believe on Sunday he will be VERY PROUD of me...
