The Future

I can't figure out, I just don't know. Why everyone wants, to be like Poe. With riddles so deep, thoughts so complex. The average reader is left perplexed. This isn't right, I really must say. The interest in Poetry is fading away. With critiques whining about cliches. I wish the professors would learn how to play. I'm not saying let's tell 'em it's gold. That's not the idea I'm trying to mold. Things are changing, views begin to waver. Time's rearranging, the past meant to savor. Dismiss my words for babble, or junk. My mission is to give poetry *****. You scribes in your dungeons can chastise me. he future is coming, this you will see.