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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.

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Everything the sun touches Is his domain. The broken pickup trucks, Trailers to broken to be habitable, Beer cans that rustles in the wind, like tumbleweeds in the desert The Diner, My mother works at to support her Mans, The Bar where he drinks the day away, too far gone to work again My mother, bruised and broken, to scared to leave And I, no more than age 10, to young to understand. He’d stumble home long after the bar closed, Looking for someone to wail on, to prove his masculinity. Me or my mom, I had to choose fast, his hands were shaking as he put in the key, slowly turning it as he turned the order upside down. My mother couldn't take it, she had locked herself in the bathroom, That hasn't stopped him before. I knew what I had to do, “this time, mother, I'll take it this time” Age 12, the sun was setting, He left for a week, One glorious week, I was able to see hope, the bruises healed, head held High Mom And I we could do it alone. He came back into our lives, she couldn’t say no. Never learned How It was worse at night. Nightly beating, Can after can, night after night, cuts and scar, Yelling and screaming, tears falling, Never noticing He held his belt like a whip, He owned the Trailer, It was his. We were his You are nothing, you never will be, My mom cowered from his hand, Funny, all he was was a drunk I feel down the stairs, At least that's what she said, Strange how there is no second floor of a trailer. The rest nodded and understood, the walls of a mobile home are thin, they all knew the truth. I hated them for that, Knowing we were suffering and not helping, turning their blind eye, Or cries fell on deaf ear. I know now why they never helped, the walls are thin there, they hoped we heard their cries, the park was full of slaves, each too scared to seek help. I'm older now, A new sun rises, This kingdom Is mine, The broken pickup trucks, Trailers to broken to be habitable, Beer cans that rustle in the wind, like tumbleweeds in the desert The Diner, My mother worked to support me, The Bar where I drink the day away, not too far gone to work again. I never wanted to be my father, but it’s all I’ve ever known. Never educated, never left This park is mine, all my Inheritance His anger is my blood right, But I don’t want it I'm looking for a way out before I lose myself to the kingdom.

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My Father's Kingdom,

Everything the sun touches Is his domain. The broken pickup trucks, Trailers to broken to be habitable, Beer cans that rustles in the wind, like tumbleweeds in the desert The Diner, My mother works at to support her Mans, The Bar where he drinks the day away, too far gone to work again My mother, bruised and broken, to scared to leave And I, no more than age 10, to young to understand. He’d stumble home long after the bar closed, Looking for someone to wail on, to prove his masculinity. Me or my mom, I had to choose fast, his hands were shaking as he put in the key, slowly turning it as he turned the order upside down. My mother couldn't take it, she had locked herself in the bathroom, That hasn't stopped him before. I knew what I had to do, “this time, mother, I'll take it this time” Age 12, the sun was setting, He left for a week, One glorious week, I was able to see hope, the bruises healed, head held High Mom And I we could do it alone. He came back into our lives, she couldn’t say no. Never learned How It was worse at night. Nightly beating, Can after can, night after night, cuts and scar, Yelling and screaming, tears falling, Never noticing He held his belt like a whip, He owned the Trailer, It was his. We were his You are nothing, you never will be, My mom cowered from his hand, Funny, all he was was a drunk I feel down the stairs, At least that's what she said, Strange how there is no second floor of a trailer. The rest nodded and understood, the walls of a mobile home are thin, they all knew the truth. I hated them for that, Knowing we were suffering and not helping, turning their blind eye, Or cries fell on deaf ear. I know now why they never helped, the walls are thin there, they hoped we heard their cries, the park was full of slaves, each too scared to seek help. I'm older now, A new sun rises, This kingdom Is mine, The broken pickup trucks, Trailers to broken to be habitable, Beer cans that rustle in the wind, like tumbleweeds in the desert The Diner, My mother worked to support me, The Bar where I drink the day away, not too far gone to work again. I never wanted to be my father, but it’s all I’ve ever known. Never educated, never left This park is mine, all my Inheritance His anger is my blood right, But I don’t want it I'm looking for a way out before I lose myself to the kingdom.