Don't I really matter?

I am pervasive
He thinks
So it doesn't matter
If he slices me
Into tiny pieces
He feels
.
.
When will he realise
The pain of the axe
Lashing into my guts
And breaking me into pieces

When will he realise
The twinge of taking away
My beautiful flowers and fruits
Without even turning back
.
.
May be
He would realise this
When he doesn't have my fruits
To fill his belly
He would realise this
When he wouldn't have
Any shelter
He would realise this soon...
Very soon..
B.N.SHRIKRITI