Disdain

I stand as I hold this place in scorn,
The atmosphere, having failed to keep
Me away from nausea.

There isn't much to see when I
Open my eyes to peruse it.
There's always much to hear
When I perk my ears alertly enough.

Complaints that know no source
Come colliding against my thoughts,
Mingling themselves until
I could no longer tell which
Were mine and which weren't.

Contagious, malicious, Calamitous.
None of where I reside
Is ever salubrious.
I was in the same vein
As the people who came to
Thrive in it,
The people who showed
No shame for the incessant
Whining and the subsequent livelihood.

I was the focal point
Of all this dread.
I was the stifled breath,
The frustrated sigh
That spoke unheard,
Unseen, unnoticed by all.