ChatGPT wrote this bedtime poem for me — what do you think?

*****

In grand halls, where pillars stand,

Central banks rule o'er the land.

With every stroke, and press's hum,

More paper bills would surely come.

The world outside, asleep in bed,

Dreams not of rates or markets led.

But in these chambers, thoughts abound,

Of economies, and cycles round.

"More money," cries a voice so clear,

"To boost the growth, and quell the fear!"

The machines whirl, the printers dance,

In this monetary, nightly trance.

But every coin, and every note,

Sets afloat a different boat.

While some rejoice, others sigh,

For value lost, and inflation high.

As night draws close, and stars do gleam,

Ponder the worth of this paper dream.

For as you sleep, in peace and calm,

The world spins on, with money's charm. nostr:note17vjkuzrg0mg8tmunefjg9pmue72775a4gmse8t6jqlkyjruaturs48gryg