The Younger Girl Poem by Rosalita Fern

Ive washed a million dishes.
I am always making tea.
My goals and wishes are tucked away, with the younger me too.
Tucked away in a little box, since that fatefull day.

That younger girl in the box, i tucked away,
Is crying now.
She knows shes never coming out.

Im sorry to you, the younger me,
Tucked away so young,
Forced to grow so fast.

I worry now, what the outcome of tucking her away, so young will be.
What will the punishment of me never being a child.
Not being allowed to be so young.

What will the price be, for letting the young girl out?