Have we run out of raw materials
needed for poetry.

The nature has all but disappeared

The smoke has blanked the sky

The sea is filled with toxic garbage

The imposing mountains are littered
with dead bodies of unlucky climbers

The Sun and Moon are eclipsing each other more number of times now than they did in the past.

The breathing air carries deadly pathogens.

Where is the raw material for writing poetry?

I cannot find any.