The Soul: A Poem

As iLook around and see many different faces
Many different stories from many different places
Realising that no 2 are the same, but thats a given
It's what's inside and how we live that makes us different
Marvin Gaye told me "music is the soul of the man"
That's why down south, we play it as loud as we can
That's the soul screaming,"I want to be heard!"
Cuz life without expression is surely absurd
Freedom of speech is a product of self
To want to hear others, or even speak to yourself
Drums and guitars are important, but man,
iPlay with my soul when iRocc with the band
Go to the museum and surely you'll find
The silent of souls that speak to the mind
Da Vinci inspired a lot of us artists
But self-inspiration is how it gets started
It never ceases to give my soul the blues
When iRead of Maya Angelou and Langston Hughes
The Stevie Ray's and the B. B. King's
Hearing their plight insires me in all things
But iCan't stand when iHear what's ruining the young intellect
Stupifying the youth and having them show no respect
Hip-hop ain't dead, it's just been replaced by a new genre
Sex, drugs, and murder are the staples of the mantras
iRefuse to respond to the ingorance they spit out
And if iSneeze, thts just my soul tryin to get out (hahaha)
No cold, I'm just cold, and my soul is to be expressed
And we should all use the gifts with which we've been blessed
Most people think their way of life defines the soul
Like the way to salvation is paved with gold
Despite if we need it, just ask yourself, people,
Will you trade your soul for the root of all evil?