A Brit In the Usa

You know you're in trouble When folks burst your bubble That your fine English accent Most others lament. Their eyes grow far larger Their countenance harder As they gaze with intent To listen hell bent. Their attention a treasure At first such a pleasure Until one quite grasps Their facial contrasts. As you blabber away Their head starts to sway To the tones of your words Like a flock of wild birds. Too late you catch on Their attention long gone It seems they got stuck In your sonnet like muck. Shakespeare or Keats Moved out by those Tweets Leaves you silently grasping And for sympathy asking. Your hope turns to prayer That perhaps they'll forbear Whilst you fast learn their lingo To squirm out of limbo. For the speech we hold dear The moral's now clear If you want to converse Just don't do it in verse.