Morbid, Part 2: The World's Plaything

After reading Kinsey's morbid poem, Steve Rahn followed suit with an even more pathetic poem:

The world wants me
They imagine me their plaything
They laugh at my jest
They dress me up
And pinch my cheeks

They pleasure in me but
The pleasure ceases
They dont play anymore
They hurt
They wrap their fingers around me
I turn blue
They drop me
Their salty tears splash on my lifeless body.