Poetry of broken souls

Creator

Im laying here where nobody steps to be a somebody
Where souls come to rest
Heavy feeling in my chest
It was not a god who betrayed ,it was not a father who prayed
It was an artist , my creator
It was my temporary mentor
It was my mother
Now times are harder
This place is not safety
Lost souls here are plenty
Its a deep way if u go down
Just as how high is the heaven town
They will ridd you of ur element
They will put you on a sedative
Where concern for you is relative
Being always treated like an addative
Is it still relevant ?
What , makes a good person great?
Nothing, no good people ever were
They were just an advantage to sell and steal what they create.
But lets not forget about him, and her.
And ,them, and who more?
Anyway just hurry cuz heaven town is closing its door.