To your ears, foreign sounds my accent
You have difficulty understanding me to some extent
I get it, and I wish you would simply ask me
To speak more slowly and deliberately
English is not my first language
Some sounds I find harder to enunciate
The way you do, but believe me when I say
I make a conscious effort to change my accent every day….
More than anything else, my accent gives me away
As a first generation immigrant, my identity it does betray
While talking to people I have seen
Frustration, anger, fascination and everything in between
I will my tongue and throat and palate
To get the elusive accent right, to enunciate
Consonants, vowels, the way you do
But I simply cannot shake off my accent, it’s true
The worst is when my accent distinctly un-American
Is misconstrued as a sign of inadequate education
And people before me start explaining things
Like they would to a child- that really stings..
Trying my best to change my accent
Reflects, at assimilation, my sincere attempt
But the innate accent that refuses to dissolve
Is a connection to my roots as my identity continues to evolve..