Monday, February 1, 2021





Vagabundo Ground Floor


We are travelers going through our journey around the world

Hoping that one day we will be an accepted society

We are trying in every way to hide our heavy burden

What we carry at the bottom of our souls is often hidden by a fake smile

At least let's get through another gloomy day

Again somehow;


Minutes and seconds pass as if hand in hand

Silence again like a snow cover covers our hearts

With his shrewdness


We are hurt by everything that is actually happening in the real world

And unfortunately very blind to do something about it

A trifle in this difficult time buys many friendships

Even if it was only for one sad evening


True love is no longer appreciated as it used to be

We actually like others to see it and we seek benefits

In the little things that disrupt the aspect of our "relationship"

Precious gifts buy today someone’s heart insensitive

Which seeks benefit in everything, and later to eventually become a man



There has come a strange time when the Internet rules the world of Transience

No one has time like they used to

Meet like you used to at eight, fall into someone else's arms embracing purity

At least feel the presence of the other side only briefly

And feel as free as ever

To live the most beautiful years of a life that has become reciprocal

Long ago;


We are travelers going through our journey around the world

Hoping that one day we will be an accepted society

We are trying in every way to hide our heavy burden

We complain door to door, everyone will say, "Do what you feel."

But you can no longer recognize what is best for you

Because you have been a dead man inside for a long time, but alive outside


We Are Not Angels


Laugh to cover all your shortcomings that you carry hidden inside

Let not many actually see what you are like, too naive and blind

Because of its refinement



We are not angels, so let us apologize for all the anomalies of the world

Whatever your heart decides, know that there is never room for change

And as the years go by you realize only one thing; it's too late to apologize

Because often you only get a greeting without a spoken word

Inverted thoughts of sporadicity plotted in a light relay

Memories engraved in almanacs of memories

The past is lonely


All these negative people are draining our energy

That they roam this Earth freely

They wander endlessly and have more luck than we naive people

Believing in ideal living standards

Cultures of learning from the feet of our ancestors

Who possess more knowledge than us

Ordinary mortals of the Passerby of Light


We are not angels, we cannot be too good for the world

Which is divided into two hemispheres of equality

One carries goodness and the other blackness

Which hovered over us like a black cloud

Ready to go!


We are not what we present ourselves to others

To win someone's ink-covered heart

And creating another new lie, we swim in it

Hiding skillfully with gifts wrapped



Justice comes into its own when you least expect it

This world was wrongly created by bad riders

What the reins hold in unwritten rules and conquests

Bad ramparts, unfit for existence



After A Lot Of Time


"Come on, get dressed quickly and get out in front of your apartment

To see those eyes blurred in the vanguard of the fog

And I embrace my fierce body right next to yours

Gently, without any anxiety or evil thoughts

I feel what love is finally

After many years! "


Why spend years in loneliness and misery

If there are lights waiting for us somewhere

A future tailored to two?


The years fly by as fast as hand crystallized

With the swing of strong wings that colored eyes play

Waltz of love with a slow way of music, because

With a smile on his face that adorns

The more beautiful side of the world, adorns a part of my existence!


Isn’t it too little when we suffer from stupid insinuations

Where for the sake of one quarrel we feel the zeal in the heart

Stamped with hot lead, it hurts in our bosoms

Skipping all the pain-stricken body

In twenty-one years?


After a long time, I still look at other people's happiness

And I spend my time in four facades of textural forms

I wish something would happen, and I still dream about it

What others dream of, a happy smiling face and love

Stained red, a drop of blood

Fluids scattered on the floor;


Twenty-one new ones arrive at the home, smog buzzing through the city

Covered with dust and hoarfrost in the wee hours, it penetrates the lungs

With the occasional vapor from my mouth I feel all the matter of the air

Grief, pain, sobs, struggles, twenty-one wrinkles

New that fate cuts reality for love;






MAID CORBIC, born in Tuzla (Bosnia and Herzegovina). He is 21 years old and in his free time he writes poetry that has been praised and awarded many times. Numerous works have been published in anthologies and magazines (Chile, Spain, Ecuador, Bosnia and Herzegovina, India), as well as printed copies of the anthology of the songs "Sea in the Palm of Your Hand", "Stories of Isolation" and "Kosovo Peonies". He is also a representative of the Terrandaz International Festival in Bangladesh, as well as the winner in Russia of the competition Sergei A. Yesenin. Initiator of the "Written Pen" competition, which had 107 competitors of international character.

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