Only real horses with real legs allowed!

The signs, at the field, ordered, as the wind howled.

The rockers rocked slowly; utterly devastated.

Being fed a downright lie; their field was so highly rated.

In their fury they rocked hard and rammed the signs down.

The real horses while shitting; fled, galloping to town.

The field was now theirs and everything was great!

Until the towns-folk arrived with rusty saws and spiteful hate.

A long, calamitous battle commenced in which nobody won.

Then the contractors arrived…