Disclaimer: I don't own the Magnificent Seven, only this poem and no profit is made from it.
Seven Strangers
By, Donna M. Monnig aka ShadowRhymer
Seven strangers came together, to defend an Indian Village,
From the Ghosts of the Confederacy, who wanted to plunder and to pillage.
*7*
One was a gunman who didn't give a damn about life,
For in a tragic fire, he'd lost his child and his wife.
Dressed in black he stormed through life with an angry scowl,
People gave him a wide berth, not understanding his temperament fowl.
*7*
Another was a bounty hunter, dressed in buckskin with long hair,
And though a kind and honest man, to him, life had not been fair.
Tracking down a wanted killer in a land so far from tamed,
This good bounty hunter, was instead, for murder framed.
*7*
Next there was the healer, cursed only for his dark skin,
Born a slave, no one respected him like they did other men.
Though slavery had died, prejudice would always be,
He'd never break the chains, even now that he was free.
*7*
Then there was the preacher who couldn't always turn the other cheek,
And for his sins, whatever they were, redemption he did seek.
A spiritual man easily seduced by spirits of the wrong kind,
It seemed for this bear of a man that true peace he would never find.
*7*
And of course the ladies man who would chase anything in a skirt,
But though a boisterous scoundrel, a lady, he would never hurt.
Yet he had no purpose, and he felt guilty regarding an old friend,
So he just drifted place to place, for the next woman around the bend.
*7*
Then there was the cheat, the gambler who left nothing to chance,
Spouting off ten-dollar words better than most ladies could dance.
Yet it was to hide the loneliness created by his con-artist mother,
Who had drug him as a child, through one con after another.
*7*
Last but not least was the boy from the east, with hopes held high,
That he'd prove himself worthy, showing that he could ride, shoot, and …fly.
Naïve to the world and alone since the loss of his loving mother,
What the young Bostonian really needed was a big brother.
*7*
In the little town of Four Corners, these seven strangers came together,
And formed a brotherhood, that became a legend, that would last forever.
*7*
The grieving gunman became a leader, guarding the town with pride,
The hunter who'd become hunted, now had six men by his side.
The black man with a heart of gold found equality at last,
The ex-priest turned fighter, found peace from his haunted past.
The ladies man with a conscience found a little brother to mother hen,
The smooth talking conman found a new place to begin.
The young boy from Boston got more than one brother it seems,
And became part of a legend beyond his wildest dreams.
*7*
By some fate seven strangers entered Four Corners alone,
Now not a one of them would face another corner on their own.
©Donna M. Monnig
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