They cry out in panic—

“The markets are trembling! The banks are weak!

Inflation rises! Debts swell! The system groans!”

But I smile, and I breathe the morning air.

For my wealth is not theirs to steal,

not theirs to dilute,

not theirs to measure in shifting weights.

While their world shakes,

my foundation holds firm.

While their hands grasp for certainty,

mine rest in peace.

For every block that is forged,

every transaction that is sealed,

every miner that hums in the dark—

my money is strengthened, not weakened.

So let the rulers print.

Let the liars spin their tales.

Let the fearful wring their hands.

I will sip my coffee.

I will step into the sunlight.

I will tell my brothers and sisters,

“Have a nice day.”

And we will.