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 A Poem for Ummi Hafilda
 She blows dry her hair
 But is still in dismay
 As she enters the courthouse each morning
 She smiles to the camera
 But you know she can't fool ya
 Cos her turn on the stand is short-coming
 She puts on fun colours
 And her suits match her purses
 Plus a handphone that completes her image
 With a flair like Lewinsky
 Though some think she's less pretty
 Oh who cares, still the girl's getting mileage
 She comes with her brother
 Who tags along beside her
 Sometimes he even acts as her caddy
 He seems rather bossy
 His hair styled like Woody's
 And too bad he's not gaining popularity
 I dare not say much
 As he might take this as an insult
 And slap me with a police report
 I can't help but feel tickled
 When I read in some article
 Blokes in protest flashed to him their "bontots"
 But it's nice he accompanies her
 Nothing makes me happier
 Than to see bro defending lil' sister
 He claims she's a dara
 In an interview with Perdana
 (That cheap tabloid newpapa')
 Gasaklah kan, orang peduli apa?
 That old driver today
 Testified he was gay
 With headlines that's restricted from children
 It's funny to think
 When it's Ummi's turn to come in
 Who knows then she might terkencing-kencing
 Ummi oh Ummi
 Your looks don't amaze me
 Seen the make-up and clothes before on Monica
 If you insist on the truth
 Of the woman I'd choose
 Would be one that looks like Nurul Izzah