In The Year 2150 Poem by Ernestine Northover

In the year 2150,
I think that life could be pretty nifty,
Vehicles flashing past, in the blinking of an eye,
To space sites, far up in the sky.
There will be no need for marking spaces,
For on earth there will be no parking places.
People will live in a monochrome suite,
As a house will have become obsolete.

Conveyor belts will carry everyone about,
An easy way to travel, without a doubt.
There will be no fashion, just zip up suits,
And no fancy shoes, just standard boots.
No zany hairdos, hair cropped real short,
That's what regulations will have taught.
All food will be in a capsule form,
And two hours sleep will be the norm.

Automatons, are what the populace will be,
Robots on the go, never ever feeling free.
Their brains and their lives, will be ruled by those
Who are in control, and who they can't oppose.
Dictated to from morning until night,
What a terrible thought, what a dreadful plight.
I am very glad that I know I will not be
Around then, this futuristic sight to see.

These are only my thoughts, which could perhaps come true,
But I have no influence at all on what might ensue.