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 As my heart beat begins to slow, my mind races at a speed that I’ve never known. All these things are around me but I’m feeling so alone. I’m driving up to a mobile home, to meet the only thing real, that I’ve ever known. And now the past flashes, right past my eyes and I’m thinking, screw these classes, I’m burnt into ashes. Every day involves at least a couple crashes. I use to be collapsing. Now I’m thinking back, trying to stand tall. But I fall when I hear that voice call. My only question is what happened to it all? Because things come and go, yet I’m seeing more go then come, I want to be happy but when I do that I let down everyone… Because what makes me happy is escaping from the world; not leaving any word of where I’m going. I feel more alive without anyone knowing. Just for a minute I want to be on my own. In my head I’m screaming, ”leave me alone!”. These days turn to nights and these nights fade away, the moon comes out to sleep and the sun comes out to play. If I’m feeling good you may even hear me say,”It might just be okay. I need some sleep it’s been a long day”. In my dreams I picture scenes, with fresh snow melt mountain streams, I’m standing over the ravine, I want to jump out, Fly away and maybe sing. But then I realize that I’m still attached to these puppet strings. They wrap around my neck and choke me until I pass out and wake up in a cold sweat. So I choose to barely sleep. I use to call it rest, but it’s for damn sure I can’t get any rest when all I’m dreaming of is regret. I’m doing the most work when I sleep, Say goodbye to counting, It’s more like I’m herding sheep. And it’s hurting me, mentally physically and in more ways then you will ever see. The truth is that this pen that I use to write with is my Zen and I just want be.
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