I have become a marshland

Soft and plunging,

Folding underfoot.

I was once a rich meadow

But you dammed me,

Building your dens-

They call it bio diverse

A rich environment

Where before you saw only

A slightly arid stretch 

And a stream ran through it.

You laud the habitat you built but

Now I can only give out 

and never recieve.

Did you not see the depths

And breadths of my weavings

Were the homes built in me invisible 

when they were not of your own hands?

The only breaths of life with meaning

It seems,

Are the ones that flourish as you thrive.