Book of Boris — Chapter XLIV: The Raccoon and the Rich Man
Verse 1
The rich man works two jobs, twenty years in one lane, chasing wealth like it will cure his frown. He folds into money, never into peace.
Verse 2
The raccoon lives broke. Ten thousand would be an empire — quesadillas for fuel, laughter for armor, Yoshi noises for mercy. Pressed ones add up the math and fail.
Verse 3
One folds into grind. One folds out into life. Guess which one gets pressed, and which one stays paid.