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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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You came into the shop I was waiting in. You told me, the threat if I said ‘No’ implicit, For only I to see A supposed gift, explicit For all to see “I got a tattoo at 18. I have booked you to have one as well now. Your first tattoo, from me to you.” I didn’t want one, not then. But I had to choose. I couldn’t say ‘No’. Luckily I had a book, with an image. You didn’t want me to choose that. But to put up too much resistance would expose the lie. This wasn’t a gift. It was defiling me with your mark. Taking my ability to say ‘No’. I was having this mark. Yours. Branding me as yours. The form didn’t matter in the end. The look in your eyes when it was done said it all. I was now yours. Stained on my arm with your brand. Just because I chose the form, didn’t change the brand. A branded mark saying ‘This Boy Is Mine. My Son. My Property’. So often I want to tear at it, to cut and gouge, to burn and rip. Until your brand is gone. But that will leave a scar as good as any brand you made me have. So one day, whether it is tomorrow, or the day I die, I will turn it into art. Something I really want on my arm. Something that says ‘”I am me. I am mine, not yours. This is not your brand any more”. I will take ownership of my own skin and flesh and soul again. And your brand will be gone. A phoenix rising and burning your mark away. Goodbye, Father.

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You came into the shop I was waiting in. You told me, the threat if I said ‘No’ implicit, For only I to see A supposed gift, explicit For all to see “I got a tattoo at 18. I have booked you to have one as well now. Your first tattoo, from me to you.” I didn’t want one, not then. But I had to choose. I couldn’t say ‘No’. Luckily I had a book, with an image. You didn’t want me to choose that. But to put up too much resistance would expose the lie. This wasn’t a gift. It was defiling me with your mark. Taking my ability to say ‘No’. I was having this mark. Yours. Branding me as yours. The form didn’t matter in the end. The look in your eyes when it was done said it all. I was now yours. Stained on my arm with your brand. Just because I chose the form, didn’t change the brand. A branded mark saying ‘This Boy Is Mine. My Son. My Property’. So often I want to tear at it, to cut and gouge, to burn and rip. Until your brand is gone. But that will leave a scar as good as any brand you made me have. So one day, whether it is tomorrow, or the day I die, I will turn it into art. Something I really want on my arm. Something that says ‘”I am me. I am mine, not yours. This is not your brand any more”. I will take ownership of my own skin and flesh and soul again. And your brand will be gone. A phoenix rising and burning your mark away. Goodbye, Father.