My Job is The Sorter, My parents went separate ways

As I walk down the road,
I see the souls walking in the graveyard.

Roaming around in the streets,
never to leave the place.

I see them every day,
trying to cling to what ever they find.

Seeking help but no one sees them but me.

Trying to take over what they can find.

But always get flinged away by my job.

They never got me,
I always held my charm as I saw them go pass me.

I was invisible to all ghosts.

They never knew me.

I didn't want to see one at all
but that was my job.

My job of healing and sending them back,
back to where they really belong.

My job where all the ghosts were put to tests,
whether they would go to heaven or hell.

Heaven always led the way to goodness,
I always saw the grinning faces of whom go to heaven.

Hell always led the way to badness,
I always saw the pleading faces, the crying faces, the angry ones, and the ones who've learned nothing.

Mother, I must admit, you had on a very happy expression as you went away from me,
never to come back.

Father, I must admit, you had a blank face as you muttered to yourself and went away from my life.

My parents went separate ways and left me here,
left me here to do my work in this cruel world.