Turns out ChatGPT can write at least mediocre poetry you just have to give it a complex meaning to write about:

...
The fields I knew have shifted,
their colors turned by time,
and the trees that sheltered quiet dreams
stand taller, older, less mine.

I grieve for what I’ll never know—
the meadow before the storm,
the brook before it wandered,
the sky before it was worn.

Yet here I stand, within the change,
a witness to its grace,
mourning the past I’ll never see,
while marveling at its place.