I should stop being critical of other people

All the kids from my high school
have become empty to me,
vapors of what "people" are and do.
There are a few still solid,
living, breathing, filled
because I filled them with my love,
with my regard, my memories.
I think, as I hold these solid ones,
this must mean no one is empty,
that all the people are whole
at the hands and hearts
of the anonymous "loved ones."