A poem called: The Gunman

There once was a man with a gun for a hand, and balls of figurative steel
He hastened the day, he made criminals pay, and he always had cash for his meal
He lived in a town with no sheriff or horses, and he made the people feel safe
He protected them from bad men with dark forces, as lead flies from his hand like a strafe
But one day a man that they all called Fat Dan, came into town on a mule
He said “Gunman you're through, I'm tired a' you, you're a one handed brute and a fool.”
So Fat Dan brought his friends, of all roguish trends, to try and lay Gunman to rest
They met him at noon, in front of Old Ben's Saloon, and they put Gunman's skills to the test
They all fired wildly, but injured him mildly, for but one bullet passed through his ear
He said “Damn you, Fat Dan! You coward of a man, I'll show you the meaning of fear!”
Gunman's eyes turned blood red, as well as his head, and his gun was incredibly hot
He leveled his gaze, eyes furious with rage, and ended Fat Dan with one shot
The rest of the men who Fat Dan brought with him, attempted to reload their guns
Gunman said “You're all through, and I'm tired of you. Four of you guys have the runs.”
So they fired again, and they hit him times ten, but Gunman was far from the grave
He steeled his resolve, and their courage dissolved, as he shot the men, all of them knaves.
There once was a man with a gun for a hand, and balls of figurative steel
He saved his home town, fell down to the ground, and cried out in pain from a kneel
The people came out, as the children would shout “He's saved us! The Gunman has won!”
But the adults all saw, twas the end of McGraw, as his life faded into the sun.

By me

 

There once was a fellow called Gross,
Whose poems were quite grandiose.
The rhymes were okay,
But the subject was gay,
And the meter was not even close.

P.S. I'm just ribbing you - actually I thought it wasn't bad...