Wondering where I went (Part 3)

A lone toy on the floor, my raggy bunny looks like she belongs to a baby. Instead she's old, with wooden beaded eyes, floppy white ears, a patterned dress, and never got my primary attention. Now she is a symbol of all the childish instincts, the unseen opportunites, the freedom, the innocence and spiritual matter I lost along the path to growing up.
You never be a little girl again.