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)Required Unanswered calls, in the night she waits In the night she waits. Waiting for her knight in shining armor. A man glistened by loving traits, strong willed, someone who didn't hide lies behind his truthful words. Too many fish in the sea they say, it seems like she's been fishing the longest. She used her body hoping she'd get a good one this time. Maybe treats would make them stay, but the ones she caught left a bad taste at most, bitter and deceiving, they danced around before they left. Again and again. And again. And everytime thinking things would change. How stupid she thought. When the pains an ever present embrace that's all she's got. So she cuts herself when she's alone, hoping someone would take notice. Hoping someone would care for her this once, and not leave, like those guys did after they had felt her warmth. She's fond of always being called slut, which shouldn't be true, but she's done it all to feel loved. She's done it more to feel loved. They say an ugly personality destroys a beautiful face, but how about a broken one? Does she put on make up to cover up the cracks? Lace her face with a smile and tell you it's fine? Even when her blood thickens, makes it harder to breathe, the elephant in the room, is herself when she speaks. She says her periods last longer than most, maybe it's the pain from every night she sleeps alone. Her heart a tombstone, heavy, upon her body, a grave, because she was dead to most. Her monotone cries muffled by the pillow she holds close to her face. But he didn't call, didn't come by, didn't say hi, didn't share her bed for a full movie, just pleasure cameos, before he left. Her heavy heart a weight no work out or meal can change. She sleeps with her phone in hand, waiting for a call that never came. Sleep child, sleep child. This night you shall not wait. 07/03/18 ?
Enter Author Name (Not Required)