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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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I. Miles McNeill was not a fine young man, he barley finished high school, with a D, seemed more interested in a thug life, ran with the gangs and lived life on the streets. Already had a criminal record, twice now he’d been locked up for possession, he’d just been slapped on the wrist, then let out, nothing that would teach Miles a lesson. The drinking, the drugs, the rash of petty crimes, it seemed the chosen path for this lost youth, he’d even shacked up in an apartment with Martina, who was a prostitute. He wasn’t her primp, she worked on her own, though she paid him for her room on her back, and it appeared to any who cared to look that Miles walked down a dark, hopeless track. His parents had tried at first to stop him, but when they saw he could not come around, they just asked him to stay far from the house, so he wouldn’t drag his little sister down. This had pissed him off, but after a bit he decided that he just didn’t care, let them act like they’re all high and mighty, he had no reason to ever go back there! And he seemed quite fine living ghetto life, he sold drugs 5o keep the cash coming in, but then one night came a knock on the door, he opened and a tall priest stood before him. He was dark of skin with close-cropped gray hair, and Miles had seen this fellow before, he was Father Thomas, from his old church, just two blocks away form his parent’s door. Why he would come here, Miles didn’t know, maybe his parents thought he could be ‘saved,’ miles just snarked,”It’s a rough neighborhood, for a man like you it isn’t that safe.” Father Thomas just gave him a cold look, said,”I’ve seen worse than you can ever know. I’m here to tell you that your parents are dead, so grab a coat, because we have to go.” The shock of the words made Miles step back, even Martina leapt up to her feet, Miles stammered out,”H-how did it happen? said Thomas,”Their car skidded off the street. “But your little sister Whitney survived, she’s getting checked t the hospital now.” Miles just nodded, fathered up his things, and then followed the father through the town. Martina went too, and she was in tears, but for Miles it hadn’t sunk in yet, even not being close to his parents, he had a hard thing thinking they were dead. After taking care of the necessities, identifying they were his parents, he was taken up to his sister’s room, and inside to see poor Whitney he went. CONTINUES IN PART II.

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The One Who Had Potential, Part I

I. Miles McNeill was not a fine young man, he barley finished high school, with a D, seemed more interested in a thug life, ran with the gangs and lived life on the streets. Already had a criminal record, twice now he’d been locked up for possession, he’d just been slapped on the wrist, then let out, nothing that would teach Miles a lesson. The drinking, the drugs, the rash of petty crimes, it seemed the chosen path for this lost youth, he’d even shacked up in an apartment with Martina, who was a prostitute. He wasn’t her primp, she worked on her own, though she paid him for her room on her back, and it appeared to any who cared to look that Miles walked down a dark, hopeless track. His parents had tried at first to stop him, but when they saw he could not come around, they just asked him to stay far from the house, so he wouldn’t drag his little sister down. This had pissed him off, but after a bit he decided that he just didn’t care, let them act like they’re all high and mighty, he had no reason to ever go back there! And he seemed quite fine living ghetto life, he sold drugs 5o keep the cash coming in, but then one night came a knock on the door, he opened and a tall priest stood before him. He was dark of skin with close-cropped gray hair, and Miles had seen this fellow before, he was Father Thomas, from his old church, just two blocks away form his parent’s door. Why he would come here, Miles didn’t know, maybe his parents thought he could be ‘saved,’ miles just snarked,”It’s a rough neighborhood, for a man like you it isn’t that safe.” Father Thomas just gave him a cold look, said,”I’ve seen worse than you can ever know. I’m here to tell you that your parents are dead, so grab a coat, because we have to go.” The shock of the words made Miles step back, even Martina leapt up to her feet, Miles stammered out,”H-how did it happen? said Thomas,”Their car skidded off the street. “But your little sister Whitney survived, she’s getting checked t the hospital now.” Miles just nodded, fathered up his things, and then followed the father through the town. Martina went too, and she was in tears, but for Miles it hadn’t sunk in yet, even not being close to his parents, he had a hard thing thinking they were dead. After taking care of the necessities, identifying they were his parents, he was taken up to his sister’s room, and inside to see poor Whitney he went. CONTINUES IN PART II.