I am Sham

Am I a failure? Who can tell me?

Worn out, shabby, weak, old
time has thrown me out.

Thinking my days of early twenties
when no one considered
either my skills or perfectness -
devoid of flesh on bones
no one ready to choose me.

Fate moved me into married life
if he liked or disliked
we have crossed the span.
With the old age setting in
when withered spirits engulf life
I am called 'Sham'

Never learned to be false
I always believed to be frank.
Biased or not to call me 'sham'
slapped on the face.
Never should I believe again
'I have achieved'

The word hitting on my nerves
spreads pain everywhere.
It let my eyes open wide.
Would I ever be treated so
for life is false at all levels -

You are here today -
you will be gone tomorrow.