The Giver

I am The Giver, stripped of my trees.
I use to be lush and green. A Beauty to see.
Deprived of my moisture, richness and seedlings,
only hardness remains from all my dealings.

The wind has been merciless passing every hour,
Insects stop helping to pollinate my flowers.
I am desperate for rain, night dew or a river.
Starving for food, my soil is dry. Still I am The Giver.

As The Giver, animals depended on me alot..
Sun bathing, exercising using everthing I've got.
From sunrise to sunset they walk my wide floor.
Eating whats left of the grass growing on the moor.

Gone are my good looks, just memories remaining.
Heavy machines, tractors with men are waiting.
New owner and surveyor with blueprint in hand.
No longer the Giver, I lost all beauty
now just a piece of land..