That's What Time It Is Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

What time is it?
It is time for all to step to the plate.
With a purpose to seriously initiate,
An immediate evaluation from others made.
And prepared to receive bone chilling critique.

What time is it?
It is time to face those flaws ignored.
And dissect into pieces,
A collection of delusions adored to store.
With a suspending of them to end defending.

What time is it?
More visits with truth and less with denial.
And accusations made,
To put those innocent on trial.
With heads bowed not to show a guilt exposed.

What time is it?
Time to see things as they are and not as wished,
By those with idealistic preferences.
Hoping with enough of them presented,
Something sticks.

What time is it?
Time to cease pretensions picked to fit.
And...
Time for those irresponsible,
To be held accountable for actions they commit.
With a finding of 'anyone' quick to blame.
That's what time it is.

The time to embrace reality.
A reality no doctor can be found to write,
A suitable prescription to numb it.