There was an old woman who lived in a shoe
with budgetary constraints, she did not know what to do
Personal expenses aside, with so many to feed
which child should go hungry, a scapegoat, her need
Social services would fall on her, whatever choice she did make
how best to proceed, and how best to onus forsake
All her children were precious, but yet one she must starve
she lit a cigar and mused, how least blameworthy her cake she should carve
In a flash she hit on a ruse whereby the deed could be done, sans blame resultant
she thumbed through the phone book for a Management Consultant
With much joy, and no little sense of relief, and to rapturous applause
the cutest child withered, but none thought her the cause.
