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 It's hard not to look back at the things that happened in my past, but it's the past, they passed on, kept runnin' now they're gone and I seem to forget that. I try too hard to keep my head low, my skin out of this blazing sun, but no matter how hard I try, not a day goes by I don't wanna get up and run. So I sit still as the time stops and the world around me begins to fade in, a black darkness where I don't want anything but for this world around me to end, but it keeps on going, and keeps on slowing, 'till I'm to slow to defend. All these kicks, from left and right, 'till I'm on the ground cause of my opponent And I'm dazing, my mind erasing, any counter attack and I give up, I understand that he's got me beat, but I can't seem to get out of this slump. In my mind, I feel untied, I feel crossed, and I feel denied. And from somewhere inside, I feel the ignition spark, and I ignite. I have the immense weight of the world, that you dropped on my cold shoulders, I rather be six feet deep under the ground, I don't want a tombstone, give me a boulder, It's like every day in this ice cold world, I feel like it's only getting colder, carrying this weight on my back, as the fiery depths of Hell smoulder. But everyday I, feel like I'm a little bit closer to breaking out of this shell, I write a little bit more, 'till I develop carpel tunnel syndrome then I exhale. My colors are fading, but black and white are all I need to sit still. So I'll keep writing, and keep on fighting, as long as I can keep this skill.
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