Oh Oh...did you get too close to the Sun?
Did you quit your new job and your back with us?
Ah, Katy.
This Icarus had big dreams in the city of glass and wine,
He dreamt of rising toward the material divine,
But on his way with smiles and laughs,
A so called friend came with back stabs,
This friend tore off wings made of paper mache,
And watched as Icarus fell away,
Down and back into the depths,
No peep of a weep come's from his breath,
He sighs and looks up on high, and still he dreams of the day he will fly,
Icarus then changes his name, Daedalus the wiser will rise again.
Non-poem version: Got back stabbed, crashed and burned and I'm back to square one. Might stay around for a bit.