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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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I am so tired of liars. People who don’t see your worth, or why you’re tired. People who drain you too, setting your chest on fire. For if you ever wonder why, my mind is so dire, I had but only one desire. I trusted so blindly and now I am wired, to question all faces until I expire. For I loved. I loved with all my worth. I loved so much, that in time they’ll sing, of a man who’s cursed. I cared too much and though I’m hurt, the truth I spoke, since my birth. For I cannot deceive. It may ease or please for a moment, but those moments flee as breeze. And as the wind whispers to trees, and the rain waters the seas, I am left on my knees, with no cure for my disease. No matter how much I beg or plead, my feet can go no further. And I swore to God and then some more that I never meant to hurt her. Though my lips are sore and my soul is more, I can not go to the way back, before. For my mind is stained, so’s my name and every drop inside my veins. And this pain I entertain, for days and weeks and months on end, it dried the land and every friend. For there’s no mercy only sand, alone I walk, but I’m only man. I swear to you, that I can’t stand, I miss her voice, her eyes, her hands. But liars sing and good hearts dance, a poisoned mind, just sinks too fast. For the ink that dripped into the past, dried and words were made to last. For while liars lie, their reasons why, we will never came to ask. Though wise, to think twice, my eyes are drawn to vice. For she is no more, and every door seems closed or leads to pathways mourned.
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