In English class we had to write a poem that tells a tragic story. Here's mine about a banker in the days of the Wild West. What do you think?

A long time ago, in the days of the West
lived the luckiest man around.
Johnny the Banker, and his wife named Tess
were the happiest couple around.

A day on the job, when the outlaw named Bob,
showed his beaten face close to sundown.
Broke into the bank and with naught but a shank
took Johnny's wife to the ground.

Johnny's distress, he saw the knife in her chest
He felt the hilt of his revolver
His pain and despair, over his murdered fair
that Bob would be dead, that he told her

That night at the Saloon, Bob and his goons
were paying to drown out their sorrows
They said it was a hit, by a fellow named Schmidt
they would pay their respects by tomorrow

He said he'd take it back, but Schmidt was out by the shack
and holding a gun to his family
Johnny caught up in rage, pulled his .348
and shot him down in the pantry.

Later that day, out beside Bob's grave
he saw the shape of his grieving widow
She looked just like his Tess, with children no less,
and Johnny looked down at his pistol

Johnny saw his wife's grave, withered by age
in town she was all but forgotten
Johnny turned 'round his gun, turned the chamber by one
found the monster and then he shot him.