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
Where the Serviettes Go to Die
After Analicica Sotelo’s Death Wish Her swollen eyes speak a different version of ASL for those of us who understand it, But not too many of us understand it because her composure is thicker than the makeup she uses to hide the wrinkles taking over like tyrants. Before wet tears moved in like my unemployed cousin on Welfare Leaving only the crystalized, microscopic, residue of constant failure And salty circumstances, I’m sure it tastes a little like Fireball and Jose Cuervo Because that’s what she hopes to replace her blood with ‘cuz her heart deserves a drink, too. And she can’t recover because Ed Sheeran’s “Dive” pounds in her mind all the time. So she mangles her napkin till its remnants scream mercy and tap out Only to grab another one, because in her hands are where the serviettes go to die. She begins to twist it, and it no longer holds a purpose. The frail sheet becomes a casualty of war, enemy fire going off, paranoid shot glasses being slammed down all around her But that napkin could have easily held a lipstick printed number that could have Been passed on to some down-on-his-luck schmuck looking to comfort himself Maybe even comfort her enough so that she forgets no one is watching. I see her. Time cares for no woman and stops for no man but for just a second it watches her Intently as it wraps its minutes and seconds around her throat and squeezes so tight Her eyes begin to bulge, and she struggles to gasp that last bit of air trapped In her gullet. It’s too late for her because her perfectly made up face won’t allow the Others to call 911 and she loses consciousness with the twisted napkin still in her hand But right as time is taking her life it loosens its grip, “she has suffered enough!” He shouts out in ASL while the alcohol takes its course one last time.
Copyright © 2020 Elizabeth Duran. All Rights Reserved