Paths

I stand tall; the luckiest man alive. Knowing full well, my life's true direction; For I'll be sure to amount to something, Or burnout rather than fade to nothing. Though here I stand full of ambition; Lowly I cower within such future; Though not quite as in severe wonderment, As in a more extreme trepidation. Not yet Twenty-One but ripped from youth's womb; Thrown into the deep chasm of adulthood; Force-fed decisions I ought not to make; And forging a trench in life; perhaps wrong. Fifteen; was I to know what I wanted? Sixteen; bio-medicine and forensics. Seventeen; teaching kid's Literature. Eighteen; poetry and teaching English. And what if once more my heart should change path? Kill my ambitions? Defeat my prospects? What if just once more I lose my true path? What if my true path is simply to die?