She lived in her room.., but she never slept in her bed.
The refuge she sought, built of blankets and pillows,
was behind that wooden door,
where her pretty little dresses would hang.
She ran from the noise. She hid from the yelling.
And when it would end, she would rise from her fort --
being always so charming but looking so blue.
Her friends, they all pointed
and giggled for what they knew --
Her Mom was a drunk.., and her Dad was one, too.
So sullen and frail, she never gave in..,
for she knew, one day soon, her ship would come in.
And when it arrived,
she jumped without thought…
Never to realize, she caught the same boat.
Though she tried her very best,
it was doomed from the start…
Little did she know, she'd sunk her own boat.
All grown and slightly bruised,
she weathered the storm…
She learned to survive, but could never fit in…
She knew she smart, she knew she was pretty.
After all she'd been through,
she held her head high..,
cause at least she could say -- I tried.
Post Script: I was inspired to write this after reading a post titled "I Grew Up With Alcoholics -- I Tried" by 
Image Source: 1
Artist: Michelle Henninger