It’s no different from the others.
Like its neighbors, it’s stuck.
It can’t move side to side.
It can’t roll on its wheels.
It can’t move forward. (Which way is forward, anyway ?)
So, why bother with the red paint ?
Red like party-girl lips, red like a poppy, red like a fast car ?
Because, just for a moment, someone might notice it.
Someone might see it, ignoring or appreciating its caution sign.
Maybe a child will run her hand across it, or a photographer will snap it.
Maybe two lovers will secretly meet next to it.
Maybe, for a moment, someone will see it as more than just a container for damaged goods and useless things.