When I’m older

What do I want to become,
I ask myself this sitting idly by,
Never too sure but never unsure either,
Constant pondering along the river of Life,
My boat rocks as the river diverges into two,
Which path will i take?
Which will make me be me,
Which path will make me be proud of myself,
Which one will make me hate myself,
I do not know,
This is the first question I was asked,
I had an answer then,
But I don’t anymore,
Childlike thoughts make everything simple,
And manage to make the simple,
Complicated,
Maybe I am a child,
Maybe I’m making a simple question complicated.
I’ll only know when I’m older,
When I wallow in regret or in pride,
I’ll only know when I’m older