*"The world would have been a better domicile to dwell in, if our impediments are equally solved. But nay, some are like candles"* *paciolo pen saint*

Do we feel ease when we relieve people from the heavy bucks passed on their shoulders when we still have ours on?

Do we feel any honor in providing light to someone's yard when darkness still raid ours?

Do our souls feel bliss giving out the last plate of dish when worms still scold our intestines?

Do we hear echoes of fame, in it our names softly move through the wind giving out the last cup of water when thirst still throttle our necks?

Do we incur glory in doling out the last currency note when we have nothing else left?

*Do we find pleasure doing those things?*

If every man can make do with and put in practice this little homily, then we earth disciples won't be branded with the hash tag of being *HEARTLESS*

The so called good doers I will say are the boards, giving the definition of human as being "callous" if not for fame, name they act, we won't be callous.

Let take for example, A was kind to B and C, C was grateful and appreciated A's kindness but B didn't utter 'thank you', it isn't that B is ungrateful, it is just that some human are born with an habit of not just knowing how to appreciate whatever is done to them. They aren't callous or heartless that is just the way they are and that doesn't give us a chance to take up arms with them in heart.

I will rather say, it will be of benefit if we can *'caste pearls before swine'* but if later they are grateful we should embrace them with smile.

Back to the source board, *people like candles* only candles will provide light to all areas and still remain dark in their ambit. We have people like that and they are the ones who view human as being *heartless*

People like candles will proffer light to shun darkness in people's life when there own life is still filled with Cimmerian darkness of impediments. If for fame they do this, a bit worst I will call it, but they just don't know a B from a Bull's foot, or the consequences of doing them. And if for the latter they do them, *no one enters a river without catching cold*

People like candles are amidst writers also, let me say *we writers* we heal the wounds, cuts, tears, patches, Of the world with our words like balm also with the aid of our mighty pen yet no one to heal ours, depression, dolor resides in us till our heart starts to protest against itself in the rib cage then the next news is *we commit suicide*

If we had provided light to our home before theirs, then there is a *balanced Equality.*

*Note: it is not wickedness if we solve our problems before theirs, it is just an act of being cautious*

In conclusion, there is always a limit to being *nice* if God were illimitable nice upon us, he wouldn't have delivered of *: Death, Gaol, Hell, Hospital.*

*There is always a string of limit tied to the apron of our characters in life.*

*Ismail Junaid.O*
*Paciolo Pen Saint*

Copyright reserved