A Poem inside a Story

I composed this free-write over at Write with Pictures... (enjoy!)

Strolling through the park, I again looked up at the statue and smiled. There will never be a monument in a park for me, but I never wanted one. I sat down on a bench and composed a poem. 

Sitting on a Bench at the feet of Greatness?

I've walked the path marked out for me for well nigh 40 years.

I've seen joys and I've seen sorrows.
I've held babies and I've held my breath.

Passers by don't look up to me,
but my kids do.
My name is not famous in the town,
but my students and colleagues love me.

I've not been instrumental in local history,
but I've been instrumental in a few lives.

I didn't die on a battlefield of glory,
no, I've lived in the trenches of life.

And one of my rewards is this...
I sit on a bench composing verse
until...
I stand and continue on...
walking the path marked out for me.