One day a young man was taking his usual stroll along those cobbled stone roads. He believed that no man was richer than him. Every day he boasted about his endless wealth that he had accumulated as time went by 

But every day he began to judge man and criticize him. He always pointed a finger at them little did he know that nine fingers were pointing back at him. 

And every Sunday, as usual, he sat in the front row of the church people noticed that he always put a huge sum of money into the plate and some of them admired him for that. 

Also, he was extremely self-righteous as if he knew everything. He began to belittle everyone in his path no matter who you were.

In his eyes, there was no such thing as black and white. He was arrogant and extremely narcissistic.

Then one day everything changed for him he was no more the well-known person even his friends began to disappear from him one by one.

He became a street beggar begging for some morsel to eat because he lost everything even his status in this life.

People began to walk right past him without giving him a second glance. Not even the church wanted to know him 

He slept under some old unused bridge even his clothes on his back were tattered and torn. Not a smile creased his weary face.

Not even the deceased wanted to know him they refused to let him pass through the gates.  

Indeed, he was one broken man. 

The moral of this poem is this don’t think that you are better than the next person because you are not.