The Bat Poem by Stephen Harris

On leaving work I saw hundreds of moths and insects swarming around a bright lamp that illuminated the car park. The thought occurred to me that here was a feast for any bat if only they knew where it was, and a really smart bat would just stay there and would never have to move again. After patting myself on the back I realised that rather than improving its state, it would in so many ways destroy it. Its the same for people who have everything given to them on a plate.