The Showdown
He was called out, to a deadly showdown
Holding his head high, as he walked in the middle of town
Seen the man he was facing, thomas mcgruder
Known as one of the baddest killing showdown shooters
His lightblue eyes were filled with fear
Sweat across his forehead, running down like tears
Eyebrows thick bushed and ran like a waterfall
Tilted his hat so you couldn't see his eyes wich tells it all
Smile upon his face, showing his dirty teeth
Filled with plaque, and all types of gum disease
Boots laced up and he was ready to have this showdown
Knowing the consequnces, not caring about it now
He had already suffered enough, while living in the town
Lost his family to resistance riders, and was thrown around
But alas, he stood tall with his chest sticking out
And as they stood staring, the towns murmers went about
He only stood at 5'8, with desire to kill a man
It was almost noon, when he had a twitch in his hand
As the sand trickled across the ground
The noon sunrise was pleasant upon his mouth
Everyone was silent, gathering what they could hear
Waiting, wanting to see what happens here
These men, showdown, one's going to dissapear
As the clock struck noon, his heart was beating heavy
But he kept his strong posture, and aim was deadly
He slung his gun out with a force and shot with a purpose
Unfortanitly he missed, his misforune lead to being murdered