Where Do I Go?

Where do I go from here?
The path before me is overgrown,
The steps behind me,
footprint by footprint
Were washed away by tears and time.
I listen closely and I can hear
Voices from deep within the wood
Calling out to me to join them
(They must be the rest of the world).
The cost of living is so high,
And I,
With lack of experience,
and a heart that's worn through in spots
Have nearly empty pockets.
So what would I  have to offer
If I ever even got there?