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 Innocent child, wake up from your rainbow colored dreams, listen to the red feathered rooster, it crows the early dawn's burden, hang on me, dance along with the swaying golden weeds among the fields of corn, watch the trees of blue and gray, follow me on the dikes of rice fields of amber green, look at the scarecrow, it looks like death, open up your eyes to the sad realities, the common farmer of tattered clothes, his pockets filled with mud, he is a prisoner of a violent semi-feudalism, with hands wrapped in callous, bleeding while tilling the bone-dry land, he works like a slave for his landlord. Little child, even the plain smells with fog, moistened leaves keep on falling over your head, but never close your eyes, do not be scared to see the toiling man's stomach, it has been empty for ages, he is nailed on the cross of ferocious poverty, dying, suffering, yet our politicians live in luxury, do nothing but to corrupt for eternal power, they keep on pretending as common farmer's saviors, but they are actually scarecrows, the angels of death, do not trust even you admire them with sugar-coated words, sooner they will give you the worst blow. sweet child, open up your mind to the relentless cruelties of this world, the common farmer's skin is burning, still toiling under the hell of the sun, sweating with blood, and his eyes are flowing with tears of agony, yet the government does nothing to give him a decent life, he goes to church every sunday morning, confessing everything about liberation, asking for freedom from the madness of hunger, but he realizes not, people around him, including laymen, also are victims of brutal political corruption.
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