In Honor of Louis Braille

Forgotten Hero

Three years old when the tragedy struck
About seven when the pain really stuck
I knew I was different and I knew how
I was blind and am now
I went to a special school in Paris
Learning to read has to be easier than this
When I was fifteen I came up with raised dots
And won approval lots
However, the adults said I was too young
But what am I now, too old?
Nineteen was the turning point for me
Now I suffer from TB
Three different times have I been near death
This is my passion, ‘till the dying breath
At the head of my class I graduated
But remained as a teacher to teach the mislead
I knew what the kids were going through
For I had been there too
I had to return home, the sickness would come in waves
My books had been burned by the principle with his behavior depraved
Though someone stood in my favor and changed his mind
He did not want to be on the losing side
We presented my method
And the people came by floods
They named my invention after me
And in 1847 they began printing
On the 6 of January in 1852
Louis died and for about a hundred years no one knew
About the man who helped change the world
And whose spirit was unfurled
The sickness that grabbed him in his youth
Allowed him, in his own way, to express the truth
Louis died in 1852
But none spoke of him until 1952
He made lives many years ago
But continues to change them as the forgotten hero





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