The Flag

She climbed the mountain as swiftly possible,
Stepping on every helping hand, which turned to dust.
She wanted her name atop the peak
To shine, ego being her only thrust.
Rivers of tears flowed through the ridges,
Empty claps echoed the hollowed hills.
People slowly reduced to dots,
But that never gave her the chills.
She reached her target with time to spare,
It was really something to brag.
But as she turned, she soon realized,
There’s no one to pass the flag.

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