It would be nice

Before I died and ceased to exist, I used to be alone in the snow, No one would realise my existence, Nor would they try to, It was my sad life that I hated, Because it was so cold and isolated, But even my efforts to change, Were useless and were in vain, I had swung on the lowly swing, That was only held by old rope, Tied to a lonesome tree, Planted in the middle of nowhere, I had always watched from afar, The playful children that laughed, Played and sang in joy, I couldn't help the jealousy in my heart, Nor could I help the desperate tears, That flowed from my dead heart, I was always so frail and transparent, That I disappeared without event, It was a lot to think about, My whole life that was without meaning, The days I spent by myself, Were forgettable and gloomy, But, what if my life was different? I would gladly live it, The happiness and delight, That I never could attain, It would be nice, wouldn't it?