Billy the Kid could always get away,
Not one man could get him to stay,
He was witty and intelligent,
His knowledge of escaping was massive and relevant,
All he needed was one single gun,
And when he got his hands on one boy did he have some fun,
Hot and quick bullets would be flying,
With it bodies of men lying their pulse slowly dying,
Billy didn't care though,
For he knew his glory would grow,
And for him that was enough,
To make the world know that he was oh so tough.
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Young Guns Imagines, Preferences, and Poetry
PoetryThis is a collection of a bunch of different stories, poems, and preferences about the Young Guns movies. I want to make it clear that I do not own anything from these movies. Neither the characters and storyline are mine in any way, nor are the pi...
