Smile

There is a little boy,
that's in pre-k.
It's nice to the smile on his,
almost everyday.
on an occasion,
I can see that it is fake.
sometimes I can see,
the bruises on his face.
I wonder where he gets them,
but i have an idea.
Sometimes I see,
the rage in his mother's eyes.
I wish I could,
take that mess,
off his chest.
Just so he could,
smile,
without it being so fake.