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.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Conscience Effort
That little voice inside my head, The one that says "don't kill them yet", Well I fear that, much to my dread, He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead. I've gone and I've torn him to shreds. I drained him white, and stained him red. That little echo in my brain, The one that tries keeping me sane, I fear it's not the one to blame, When I cannot live with my shame, despise the taste of my own name, And loathe the rules of my cruel game. That little angel on my shoulder, I've buried him under boulders, Then set him ablaze to smolder. I can't say I've closed his folder, Just that I've never felt bolder, Than the day that I grew colder. That little voice inside my head, The one that says "don't kill them yet", Well I fear that, much to my dread, He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead. I've drained him white and stained him red, But i do love how much he bled. That little demon on my arm, I fear I fall prey to his charm; I know he wants to bring me harm, But I do just love making scars. Though the hairs raise on my arms, his embrace is far too warm.
Copyright © 2024 Bo Vigoren. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs