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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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This factory has the bales delivered. Bales of unwanted, disused, thrown about, torn up, ripped and antiquated clothes. Once loved but not now. Bales measured by tonnes. Bales needing the forklift. Bales delivered once a month. This factory hauls these bales, one at a time, to the factory floor. On the floor they are ripped open and gutted, their blood of clothes oozing across the floor before the cutters. The cutters who take never ending handfuls of this gut to their trolley, to their cutting machine. This factory slices arms off, rips legs open, carves neck lines off, zippers and buttons slashed away, never to see the pants again. The entire garment scored back to its crude original form. A form of square material. Square material with nothing of interest, unwearable. And tossed into the empty waiting bag, Waiting to become 15kg of unwearable square slices of material. This factory fills an empty bag to 15kg, hundreds of 15kg bags. These bags await the drive to a new owner. An owner who’ll love this square rag in a moment. Become intimate with this square in a moment. Sharing this square with oil, grease, dirt, mud, rust, stains and fuels. Once unloved and unused becomes unwearable to useful and one last spike of intimacy again before the inevitable oblivion takes the rag for the final joy ride. The rag factory.

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Rag Factory

This factory has the bales delivered. Bales of unwanted, disused, thrown about, torn up, ripped and antiquated clothes. Once loved but not now. Bales measured by tonnes. Bales needing the forklift. Bales delivered once a month. This factory hauls these bales, one at a time, to the factory floor. On the floor they are ripped open and gutted, their blood of clothes oozing across the floor before the cutters. The cutters who take never ending handfuls of this gut to their trolley, to their cutting machine. This factory slices arms off, rips legs open, carves neck lines off, zippers and buttons slashed away, never to see the pants again. The entire garment scored back to its crude original form. A form of square material. Square material with nothing of interest, unwearable. And tossed into the empty waiting bag, Waiting to become 15kg of unwearable square slices of material. This factory fills an empty bag to 15kg, hundreds of 15kg bags. These bags await the drive to a new owner. An owner who’ll love this square rag in a moment. Become intimate with this square in a moment. Sharing this square with oil, grease, dirt, mud, rust, stains and fuels. Once unloved and unused becomes unwearable to useful and one last spike of intimacy again before the inevitable oblivion takes the rag for the final joy ride. The rag factory.