What's Wrong

The lines of society
blur in between
what is right and what’s Wong.

You may ask what I mean when I say
‘what’s Wong’,
and I can riddle you this:
Could it mean the state of my emotions,
or the play on my name?
Could it be my thoughts on this issue,
or the essence of my identity.

I am Wong.

But what’s Wong with that?
Being mass produced.
Shipped out, slapped afar.
Pre-empted to surpass the masses;
math, chemistry and physics:
That is our specialty;
what we’re all good for.
An exquisite eastern side dish
to the main of fish and chips.

To be a by-product
of this commercial process;
mundane and obscured.
But to put on a white freckled mask
we’ll finally be seen.

Am I right or am I still Wong?

We’re whipped into talent, shaped in to fear.
Because brown almond eyes:
we’re all the same;
the musical, the medical, the mathematical.
This caste of society stands:
It takes two Wongs to make a Wright.

And there is surely no wrong in that.