“I’m not coming.”
The famous words,
Whispered over the phone,
Making a man’s value drop, two-thirds.
It was expected,
It was not wanted,
Nonetheless it was expected.
The cold silence on the line haunted.
I sat silent,
My car immobile,
Yet fuel was burning quickly.
Abandoned once more by a man who’s “Noble.”
Primitive Poetry 
You captured the disappointment in a creative way. I enjoy your style.
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