Does The Future Hold Poetry? Poem by Malory Joyce

Does the future hold poetry?

In maybe one, three, five, or nine fingers,
two, four, six, eight stanzas, held?

Will they still read poetry out loud in a classroom,
to where children become bottled and drown upon sleep?

Do we better control our thoughts and feelings,
that our mind is in no need for reason expansion?

When that train of thought or feeling overcomes us,
do we bother in reach of a pencil and paper?

In books do they publish ones creative movement,
in capturing, inspiring, and meaning?

Does the world became clouded and a fade,
that life stories and experiences are invisible?

In maybe one, three, five, or nine fingers,
two, four, six, eight stanzas, held...

Does the future hold poetry?