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 My words are naked but I'm not ashamed of it, My words bleed on its body but I am not ashamed Of it because, I write for the thorns in my backyard. I can't be ashamed to write for the helpless, the rejected, the motherless, the fatherless, orphans and Those seeking for husband or wife in the society. So, if you see my unclothed words do not be surprise. If you see me in the street without clothes, Don't laugh at me without your mouth and teeth. If you see me in the farmland and you see no pant on me; Don't mock me because that is what I choose to be. Don't close your eyes because of my nakedness I am not ashamed of being who I am for my people. I sold my soul to the weeds at my back yard, The voiceless did I not forget in a hurry, no I have not! I am to my people what book is to a teacher, I am to them what medicine is to patients. Though naked I am not ashamed of that, NO! In the street my people are spread out in disarray, The leaders has done them wrong, beat them to coma. Many scars are left on their bodies to witness the dirties of the sinful sky barking at their agonies. Looted and exploited without any help to come. They now become the dregs of the street, the homeless, and the weak left to perish in the society. If the story of their suffering be told to the moon, To the stars, to the sun, to the air; and the sand, Let it be known to them that there is a writer among them. Not a silent writer but one whose nakedness had been Revealed to the world for the freedom of his people. The one whose hand is mighty to revolt, The one whose legs walk on every thorns of evil. I am naked for my people but not ashamed of that. (C) John Chizoba Vincent All Right Reserved '16
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