Useless Reminiscing

There are those who identify with quantity. To fill a necessary space... Determined To let dust with an emptiness, And silkened within a cobweb traced. In cobelligerence it seems, But not in protest. Nor in the uniting of values. A storm that isn't but 'is' inside that brews. Like the eyes of someone in a portrait, That follows you and every move! The substance of the quantity, Fails to provide a quality missed. And the dust seems to sit... As if that had been the purpose of it. To soothe a mental disturbance. Proving a self control can exist! But to who? To collect one's thoughts. Until the memory finds a meaning. And a perfect time to explore... Useless reminiscing. That's all it is... If one does this alone!