When Christmas Has Gone, and the Rubbish Remains
When Christmas has gone, and the glitter grows dull,And the tree sheds its needles, the bins overfull,In Wolverhampton’s streets, a tale unfolds—Of wrapping and ribbons and the chaos they hold. The tinsel that sparkled, now crushed in despair,The baubles lie shattered, no longer fair.Boxes from gadgets and toys that delight,Pile up like a mountain, a…
