#FOMCMeeting

A Tale of Policy and Power

In marble halls where the markets stare,

The FOMC meets with a weighty air.

Eight times a year, they gather to speak,

Of rates, of inflation, and futures we seek.

The Federal Reserve, with mandate in hand,

To steady the dollar, to guide the land.

Employment full, and prices contained—

Their dual objectives, constantly strained.

#FOMCMeeting trends across screens,

Where traders decode what each signal means.

Will rates go higher? Will cuts begin?

The fate of the markets hangs paper-thin.

A pause might bring sighs, a hike brings fear,

While doves and hawks both hover near.

Chair Powell speaks, the cameras roll,

Each word dissected, each comma’s role.

Treasuries tremble, the dollar might rise,

While Wall Street reacts with wary eyes.

A dot plot appears—each member’s view,

Of where rates may head, and what they’ll do.

Inflation’s the dragon they’re sworn to tame,

While job growth and spending stoke the flame.

Behind closed doors, decisions are weighed,

With trillions moved by the choices made.

So tune in close when the Fed takes its seat—

#FOMCMeeting shapes the global beat.

A poem of money, control, and fate,

Written in silence… and published late.