The Rumored Version

I don't find the need to apologize anymore, To those who have expressed, Their unconscious ignorance gone unaddressed. I address 'that' immediately to let it be known, I am at the stage and age of my life... That I can not let what others accept to be, My reality that others have created... To afford the learning from my past experiences, To have anyone believe throughout my life... All I did was to sleep as others removed my obstacles. While I sat to supervise as I ate from a bowl, Of freshly picked cherries. That might have been the rumored version. My version? I made the bowl and picked the cherries, After I bled from climbing jagged rocks nonstop. To then chop down the cherry trees, As I carved out a path to reach the summit. With wounds left to still heal. AND prepared I am to reveal them if I am dared.