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