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Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.

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The frustration rises, like bile To fill my chest I feel a knot in my stomach A pit of vipers writhing. The eyes are watching my every move As I feel I can’t do right For doing wrong. I can’t put my finger on it Yet I know it’s not real. I know in my logical mind That I am worthy, I am just, A work horse well-laden with responsibilities. Still plays the stuck 78 In the back of my head ‘They will find you out’ ‘They will see you as you are’. Extremities ache with fear, The constant need to move Before the pain returns, To sharpen my anxiety To mock me. I can’t put my finger on it But the feeling remains Imposter syndrome doesn’t even cover it How each action fells As negative as the depths Of an Antarctic winter. Nausea waves, my feet crippled Their need to move Yet wracked with debilitation. Why do I feel this guilt This vomit inducing Tear rendering guilt That one day they will see me Just as I am. Realise I’m not who they thought I was. I have been hiding in plain sight. A spectre at the feast. For now I have to carry on, Pushing through Worker harder than ever But feeling retrograde motion. This is true anxiety, The unfounded, The unjustified The undefinable I just can’t put my finger on it.

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I Cannot Put My Finger On It

The frustration rises, like bile To fill my chest I feel a knot in my stomach A pit of vipers writhing. The eyes are watching my every move As I feel I can’t do right For doing wrong. I can’t put my finger on it Yet I know it’s not real. I know in my logical mind That I am worthy, I am just, A work horse well-laden with responsibilities. Still plays the stuck 78 In the back of my head ‘They will find you out’ ‘They will see you as you are’. Extremities ache with fear, The constant need to move Before the pain returns, To sharpen my anxiety To mock me. I can’t put my finger on it But the feeling remains Imposter syndrome doesn’t even cover it How each action fells As negative as the depths Of an Antarctic winter. Nausea waves, my feet crippled Their need to move Yet wracked with debilitation. Why do I feel this guilt This vomit inducing Tear rendering guilt That one day they will see me Just as I am. Realise I’m not who they thought I was. I have been hiding in plain sight. A spectre at the feast. For now I have to carry on, Pushing through Worker harder than ever But feeling retrograde motion. This is true anxiety, The unfounded, The unjustified The undefinable I just can’t put my finger on it.