You have strolled into Shitespace.
Do not be alarmed, it's quite nice here.
Just kick off your shoes, put your feet up, and have a giggle
in our cosy little haven where nothing matters,
and you're safe from the nasty outside world.
In summer there are lots of nice things
Like getting stoned in parks on swings,
Then summer fades and autumn brings
The wind and rain which really mings.
On winter days the birds don't sing
But fly away until it's spring,
Then summer returns with more nice things
Like getting stoned in parks on swings.
We'd like you to judge our Shite by awarding it farm animals.
Please select the farm animal which best expresses your enjoyment
of the poem you've just read.
Note that we are not expecting you to judge our work on how good
or bad it is - we know it's all terrible -
we're only interested in how much satisfaction you derived
from our poetry.
So if you really enjoyed the poem give it a proud cock but if it
really didn't do it for you then give it a piddling pig.