I asked ChatGPT to write some poems about trading cards. It did not disappoint. Or did it?

Prompt: Can you write a poem about non-sports trading card collecting?

The thrill of the hunt, the rush of the find
A treasure trove of cards, all yours to unwind
From the classic to the new, the rare to the common
Each one holds a story, a world of its own to awaken

The art on the front, the stats on the back
A history lesson, a glimpse into the past
Comic book heroes, sci-fi beasts
Musicians and actors, each one a feast

For the collector who craves the thrill
Of adding to their stack, card by card, until
Their collection is complete, a sight to behold
A mosaic of memories, stories yet untold

So let the hunt begin, let the search commence
For the non-sports trading card collector, there’s no end
To the joy and the passion, the endless pursuit
Of the perfect addition, the ultimate loot.

Prompt: Can you write a funny poem about collecting sports cards?

I used to think sports cards were just a fad
But now I’m hooked, it’s not so bad
I’m always on the lookout for the next big score
A rookie card, a jersey, an autograph galore

I’ve got a closet full of boxes and binders
My collection’s a mess, but it’s all mine, no reminders
From football to baseball, basketball to hockey
I’ve got cards for every sport, it’s kind of nutty

But the best part of it all, the icing on the cake
Is when I pull a card, it’s like winning the lotto, no mistake
A limited edition, a one of a kind
I do a little dance, I’m one of a kind

So if you see me scouring the shops and the bins
Don’t judge me too harshly, I’m just collecting some wins
Sports cards may be silly, but they bring me such joy
I’ll keep collecting forever, oh boy!

Prompt: Can you write a limerick about trading cards?

There once was a collector so true
Whose collection of cards was brand new
He bought and he sold
Till he had a full hold
Of every card, from old to the new

But then one day, his luck took a turn
He lost all his cards in a fire that burned
He was sad and dismayed
But he didn’t delay
He started anew, and his collection returned

Now his cards are all sorted and filed
He’s the envy of all, his collection compiled
He’ll keep on collecting, with glee
Till he’s got a collection as big as the sea
Trading cards, how fun and beguiling!

Prompt: Can you write a short poem about sports cards in the style of Edgar Allen Poe?

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten sports cards,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door –
Only this and nothing more.”

But the tapping persisted, louder and more bold
So I rose to see what could be the untold
Story behind this mysterious knocking
And what I found left my heart rocking

For there, in my hands, was a sports card of great renown
A rookie card, a gem, a treasure to be found
I laughed and I wept, my joy knew no bounds
For this card, this treasure, was mine to be crowned

And so I held it close, this card of great might
And in that moment, all was right in my sight
Sports cards, how they thrill and delight!

Prompt: Can you write a short poem about a boy who got a PSA 10 Michael Jordan rookie card for Christmas?

On Christmas morn, a boy awoke
To find a gift, a treasure, a stroke
Of luck and good cheer
A PSA 10 Jordan, oh dear
He couldn’t believe his eyes, this was no joke

He held the card in his trembling hands
A rookie card, a treasure, a one of a kind brand
He felt a surge of joy, of wealth untold
This card, this gift, made him rich, young and bold

He ran to show his friends, he couldn’t wait
To share the news, it was far too late
They oohed and ahhed, they couldn’t believe
This boy, this lucky lad, had received

A PSA 10 Jordan, a treasure so fine
This boy was rich, he felt divine
On this Christmas morn, a joyous day
He had a gift, a treasure, a PSA 10 Jordan, hooray!

Prompt: Can you write a poem in the style of Robert Frost about a time traveler who goes back in time to acquire old baseball cards and get rich?

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I stepped through the portal, a time traveler true
To a world of the past, where baseball cards were brand new
I scoured the shops and the bins, with glee
Searching for treasures, the old and the rare, you see

I found a Honus Wagner, a card of great fame
I knew it was worth a fortune, I felt no shame
To go back in time and collect my wealth
This time traveler, I had stealth

I traveled back and forth, through the ages and eras
Gathering cards, a treasure trove, a joy beyond measure
I returned to the present, a rich man indeed
With a collection of cards that no one could exceed

And so I stand at the crossroads, the choice is mine
To stay or to go, to collect or decline
But the lure of the past, the thrill of the hunt
Draws me back, time and time, I can’t resist the temptation, so blunt

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.