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
My Final Disgrace
Alone inside a darkened room. Silently, I await my doom. My heart-beat echoes in my brain. Slowly driving me insane. I hear another sound approach. Foot-steps coming very close. A man in black appears nearby. “Now is the time, are you ready to die?” He stares at me, his face set grim. He bends with the shackles and locks my feet in. We leave the cell, my very last vow. More guards follow as we walk down the aisle. At the end of the hall, we enter the place. Which holds the method of my final disgrace. The guillotine and basket, I can’t bare to see. So, I lower my eyes as the guards lead me. One tells me to kneel, and I reply with “yes.” “Son, I have come to let you confess.” “Father,” I whisper, “God knows my sins. This is where they now must end.” The priest looks grieved, but takes my hand. “May God have mercy on this young man.” I see the people, just a little afraid. I hear the noise as the blade is raised. The blade comes down with an angry zip. I feel the cold as my neck is ripped. Then the drop of my head into the baskets hole. And the core of my body releases my soul. Written: November 11, 1998
Copyright © 2025 Angela Tawney-Nicholas. All Rights Reserved

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry