The death of a s(succulent)alesman Hannah Freibert (assignment 12)

The title was my half hearted attempt to morph the passing of my dearest succulent, Theodore, with the very popular play The Death of a Salesman, which I have neither seen nor read nor frankly, know anything about at all. The following is styled in what I believe to be an accurate representation of the suicide note of my favorite inanimate object. 

Snug in mug, perched on the window

Along with my friends, lined up in a row

I watch the days turn into nights and nights into tomorrow

As they go I stretch my leaves to follow

I see the leaves change and I see the leaves fall

And I can't help but wonder, what is the point of it all

I am not the biggest nor the leafiest of the bunch

I can't combat the voice in my stem telling me to take the lunge

It can get lonely in the crisp fall blackness

I have a bad case of succulent sadness

A floor of wooden planks and my window two story high

Are all the stand between me and the big meadow in the sky

I can save myself from this never-ending slump

I've worked up the nerve to make the jump

Like pink floyd i say goodbye blue sky

This is a succulent's last goodbye

*Based on a true story. On November 6th, Theodore Freibert took his life after more than two years in my care. I arrived home to his shattered remains on my back deck. Tears were shed. Farewell, brethren, farewell.