It Could Be True Think About It Poem by Manonton Dalan

i see wings scattered on grass
flesh is gone slowly eaten by ants
sad fate for once gliding creature
up above trees; wilderness treasure
maybe i will end up just like that
forgotten, somewhere shelved in past

i walk further fallen nuts; bare now
tiny holes been carved to reach meat
won't germinate when rain comes pouring
but will float as transport for critters
everything has its use no matter how small
very precious, very beautiful like us all