“Be happy!” said the parking lot. I was;
My lowered gaze, I thought, was not produced
By sadness, yet the painted words gave pause;
Had my own happiness become diffuse?

My first reaction was to laugh and scoff,
Because to optimism I’m inclined,
Yet thinking on the day, its crests and troughs,
The disappointments lingered in my mind.

But that poor lot, oppressed by countless tires,
Still had its cheerful wisdom to dispense,
In crudely painted letters, the desire
To give good cheer to those who wandered hence.

If it can smile despite the trash and shit
Perhaps there’s something to be learned from it.