An Ode to an Unknown Man

One day, he awoke with a cold in his head,
And he thought it best that he should stay in bed.
He pondered hard as he swabbed at his nose,
Wond'ring from what source this illness arose.
He remembered the night before.

The night was so dark and his vision so grainy,
The weather he walked in was so cold and rainy,
He ne'er caught a glimpse of the puddles so deep,
But the cold water into his shoes has seeped,
Long ere he reached his door.

Tossing and turning, his head on his pillow,
Grieved that this splashing had brought him so low,
Until, at long last, he shouted, "Forsooth!
I think that I shall make my shoes waterproof!"
And so he invented galoshes.