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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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so fragile we are--- broken eggshells on the pavement, split ends tearing, puzzle pieces scattered all over the place with no one qualified enough to put them together, selves upon selves upon selves upon selves, questions contradicting assertions & assertions wanting to blot out any further questions, open wounds that keep bleeding no matter how hard we try to stop it with gauze, with multiple clothes, with cauterizing tools & yet, when a hand is extended, the walls go up, the barbed wire gets rolled out & the bayonets get sharpened--- the older you get the harder you get & the harder you get the more dead inside & the lack of a belief that anything remotely resembling “trust” even exists anymore, seems to greaten, not lessen, as the days go by. when the hand is extended, we want to know what the body, the heart & mind attached wants with us---we want to know the ulterior motives, we want to know why anyone would possibly throw a buoy when we are drowning, for what could the stopping of our disintegration profit them? what do they have in mind? for certainly, no one in this world does something for nothing. and this is the way we’ve been raised, this is the way our wonderful western capitalist catastrophe has carved us, us good little citizens, passing up real compassion when it is offered to us, because we can’t figure it out. what if sometimes “a cigar is just a cigar?” & a helping hand is just a helping hand.

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so fragile we are--- broken eggshells on the pavement, split ends tearing, puzzle pieces scattered all over the place with no one qualified enough to put them together, selves upon selves upon selves upon selves, questions contradicting assertions & assertions wanting to blot out any further questions, open wounds that keep bleeding no matter how hard we try to stop it with gauze, with multiple clothes, with cauterizing tools & yet, when a hand is extended, the walls go up, the barbed wire gets rolled out & the bayonets get sharpened--- the older you get the harder you get & the harder you get the more dead inside & the lack of a belief that anything remotely resembling “trust” even exists anymore, seems to greaten, not lessen, as the days go by. when the hand is extended, we want to know what the body, the heart & mind attached wants with us---we want to know the ulterior motives, we want to know why anyone would possibly throw a buoy when we are drowning, for what could the stopping of our disintegration profit them? what do they have in mind? for certainly, no one in this world does something for nothing. and this is the way we’ve been raised, this is the way our wonderful western capitalist catastrophe has carved us, us good little citizens, passing up real compassion when it is offered to us, because we can’t figure it out. what if sometimes “a cigar is just a cigar?” & a helping hand is just a helping hand.