Shaped....

I know you shaped my style.

I can tell by the way I talk.

My fluency in speech agitates more so

than the way I hold my knife and fork.
My thoughts expressed openly cause

lengthy backdrops against the odds;

leaving me with little friends.
And although I feel alone

the fifteen lectures hold strong.

Your sharpened glare can silence me;

driving awareness.
I can stand on my own,

weave in and out of my own mind,

making plans without pressure.
The shaping prepares my future

to hold my head up strong.

And when I fall,

your protecting arms are there,

to shape me all again.