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
A Warning To the Government, Redone
Across the war torn atrophy, A decomposing cracked corpse, Shakes and splits in the sovereignty, Of the rounded Earth which warps. Annihilated by the angst of grouped race: A false duplicitous spell, Cast by the convention of crooked space, Filled by the blackest of magic from hell. Governance is but a season of treason, To portent an enemy’s existence, Denying the bond of unblind reason, In order to mock the truth of resistance. Robins once flittered in hooded cloaks, To unveil the robes of thieves, Whose crowns are but a farcical coax, To control what the world believes. Locked in this cyclical wheel of a hamster, We pay our unwarranted dues, With neither representation nor an answer, To why we’re enslaved by you. But then again a slave sees no master but the devil lashing a whip, Which often slips from the grip of twits who dare disparage the blood that it makes drip. How fickle the tick-tock trickle of skin flicked quick by tickles of thy tyrant’s trick, Beware, dear brickhead politic, clocks can’t fuel fire when there’s no wick to stick.
Copyright © 2024 B. Joseph Fitzsimons . All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things