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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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The uncaring profession is thriving once more, no more laid to rest it has kicked down the door and exploded again into all of our lives; political cut backs with blunted old knives. The tax –payers’ money funds publicity to smokescreen essential staff redundancy; expanding the management behemoth again, top heavy, retarded but why break the chain? New logos, computers and carpets and stuff, close some more wards but it’s never enough; dump us some doctors and nurses galore to justify being and even the score. Halt operations, let RTA’s bleed, expenses and lease cars, now that’s what we need; a pen-pushing nightmare, morality rape, a fat bloated zero of steam and red tape. This management structure, corruption and toys, it’s work for the soulless and jobs for the boys; the boss needs a secretary, one will not do, for she’ll need a secretary who’ll need one too. It staggers and lumbers and weight it gains still, detached from the patients, the dying, the ill; blinded and senseless, hamstrung and thick, no thought for the public, no thought for the sick. Feasting on trivia, pamphlets and lies, trust, how ironic, a word to despise; when there’s nothing to feed on it must come to pass it will cannibalistically eat it’s own ass.

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The Hospital Trilogy Part One - Trust

The uncaring profession is thriving once more, no more laid to rest it has kicked down the door and exploded again into all of our lives; political cut backs with blunted old knives. The tax –payers’ money funds publicity to smokescreen essential staff redundancy; expanding the management behemoth again, top heavy, retarded but why break the chain? New logos, computers and carpets and stuff, close some more wards but it’s never enough; dump us some doctors and nurses galore to justify being and even the score. Halt operations, let RTA’s bleed, expenses and lease cars, now that’s what we need; a pen-pushing nightmare, morality rape, a fat bloated zero of steam and red tape. This management structure, corruption and toys, it’s work for the soulless and jobs for the boys; the boss needs a secretary, one will not do, for she’ll need a secretary who’ll need one too. It staggers and lumbers and weight it gains still, detached from the patients, the dying, the ill; blinded and senseless, hamstrung and thick, no thought for the public, no thought for the sick. Feasting on trivia, pamphlets and lies, trust, how ironic, a word to despise; when there’s nothing to feed on it must come to pass it will cannibalistically eat it’s own ass.