You conquered me
like a mountain (or a molehill).
Climbed me and then left me here,
another spire to aspire to.
Was I just a rocky crag used as
a monument to your success?
What was my reward, just a
wanton moment, better to forget?
Here I stand, wind blown
and forever circumspect,
a peak waiting on another expedition.
Hopefully, one that’ll show me more respect.