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 Since a little girl, I have been sensitive. Hiding behind mother was my place to be. Mother used to say that I was born different. My eyes were pools of sadness, dark brown and full of sorrow. As I grew words said effected me deeply. I did not brush them off, that was not me. The words were like scars on my soul, they dwell there. Terrible, awful death shadowed my days and how I handled it was to go deep within. I dwelled there, happy with imagination. I made up stories and lived them. I would read books in a secret corner of the attic. I liked to wander the woods near home. I saw things there that touched me, little baby birds, young squirrels playing, nature growing all around me. I told my sadness to my kitty, she was a good listener. in woods wandering I find my sweet peace and tranquility- green lush vines creeping Soon, I was a teenager. I was quiet and alone in my private world. Words lashed at my soul like whips. Perhaps the words were not even that terrible, I twisted them that way. I was extremely sensitive and it was a curse. Yet, in the end it turned out to be my most precious quality, sensitive to all I see and feel in this world has made me the poet that I am today. I can now write with soul all that I see wrong in the world with emotion. But part of the little sensitive girl hides inside of me, often she is hurt by a word said, even if innocently said. It is a curse and a blessing. the birds are chirping they are calling me to the green lushness- words fall from my pen _______________________________ April 16, 2016 Poetry/Haibun/Sensitive Is My Shame Copyright Protected, ID 16- 778-484-0 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
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