Flick my shots

Every leaflet of life will become a story,
Stories that are unrevealed a bit,
From a small alphabet to the glory,
That's what massive my lot is,
Stories which are concealed,
From where it was to the next state,
Will it prattle to me when get it,
So nearly might be a decagon to know,
Also might be a brilliant snag,
But preferably time might slow,
And show me the things then,
Which I failed to notice now,
And was surrounded by all absence of mine,
I will innate back to redefine,
The life I missed now,
I might rile that clock,
When get to know,
Wasn't the wonted thing,
I used to do then.