Edward Hyde

My name is Edward Hyde,
I'm seventy-five.
I'm a poor old man - terrified.
Outside all sorts is happening,
I'm barely safe inside.
And in my room
I'm full of doom
And rarely venture out.
If I do, it's to the shops
For smoking keeps me calm.
I buy tobacco, milk and sweets,
Teacake, kippers and mincemeats.
But all the time I wonder if
Those youths nearby when off the spliff
May violence me, may rough me up,
Or maybe taunt me with their boxer pup.
So tranquilized I take my time
On my legs I'm wonky,
I make it into town sometimes
And share a joke with honky-tonky.
The world is full of many types
I've never been so prejudiced,
I take 'em in, those minority groups
Indeed I think I'm one of 'em.
For after all it's a pensioner's lot
To stand upon the fringes.
I take my tablets, an occasional drink,
I never go on binges.
But all the while I think so deeply
Can it last like this ?
Maybe not, methinks in fact
So what the hell,
Let's take the piss !