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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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required her name was Anne and she wrote dreams upon pages; the kind that roam around your mind but are always held deep inside your chest; and she heaved under the weight of tears left uncried and so many truths left unsung; her name was Anne not of Green Gables but of Gestapos and Gettos; not summer getaways but of guards and gates; she was Anne of raven hair with faraway eyes, on spindly legs running towards a woman's curves; but the hook of her nose told heritage tales, that they numbered with hate upon her youthful arm; yet she still dreamed and wrote, of longings and yearnings of the future; with simplistic thoughts not comprehending her reality; her pen flew across pages, filled with hope, yet inked in sadness; and the winds blew the sheets upon the prejudice that surrounded her; without effect she was Annie to parents who saw only the past of a little girl with shiny new shoes pink bows and capped teeth; the shoes went into piles, bows flew upon the breeze and the teeth shone only in fillings of melted gold instead of smiles; she was the promise of a woman's secrets, yet to be revealed and enjoyed, upon silken thighs; with desired weight pressing love upon waiting lips; she was humanity destroyed by inhumanity; as the world watched little girl tears float away, into subconsciousness, where we didn't have to feel them or hear their weeping moans; she was a star from the family of David; an outcast now from society that deemed her unworthy; outlined by the yellow blaze as the star burnt itself out; and she called to her God without blame for he was good and kind; and man... well man was man, so unlike her God; her name was Anne and she pressed her face upon the panes of our illusions; breaking through the shaded barriers that we ourselves had forged; but too late for Anne did we see the truths; and now she remains forever young in our minds; but dead to our world; and her pages are all that speak; her hushed whispers grown finally loud; we hear her voice and feel at last her tears, as they slide down those precious pages to become our own...
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