The Western Kid

They glared at each other stonily
The Legend and the Kid
In an instant second
Of one of these the town would rid
Backs turned, twenty paces
The traditional shootout walk
Dust stirring around cowboy boots
Tension did the talk

Crowd waited in anticipation
Expecting bullets flying
One would soon be lying there
Very slowly dying
Both stood, poised for action
Hands ready at the hip
The command of "Draw" then rang out
From the starter's lip

Legend swiftly pulled his gun
Kid, a little quicker
Put three right into the chest
Before his foe's eyes could flicker
Kid took one look at the body
Took Legend's hat, put on his head
Looked around the townsfolk
Saying simply " He be dead"

Mounted on his stallion
Kid rode off into the sun
Leaving an awe of quietness
His work here was done
All around the prairie
From nightfall to early morn
You'd hear the tale of how the Legend died
And the Western Kid was born