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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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Things I need to stop for: deodorant, candy bars, some magazines, to while away the hours.. Have to catch the train in time, as it's a long trip north. With no one to keep me company, my tongue's going to rot. On my way to the station, there's a man who wishes he was me; he's running for the bus I'm on shouting "STOP!", as it starts to flee. He’s quite the messy dresser: in any crowd he'd be the odd-man-out. Tight tee on formal trousers & sneakers which have gone through a lot. The bus stops near a gizmo store; "JUST IN! Boy stabbed to death", the LCD's scream in unison. & odd-man stumbles aboard, out of breath. Can’t see who’s been killed this time, who’s been robbed of the right to live. In a series of deaths all across town: tragedies caused without any motive. -- The train wheels start turning, no time to get to my seat! My bogie is further down the order getting there won't be an easy feat. It's hotter in here than the midday sun. Different smells ride humid air. Fresh food & farts fight to be noticed & my nose watches them in despair. The cellphone rings in my pocket; my hands are full, they aren’t free. To let go of my case or the railing, would add to the others misery. Many stations pass, many alight: in the aisles,less people remain. As I move to my coach, a familiar sight Odd-man's on the train. As I rest in my seat I can finally see the call from home, now miles away. But as I started to say that all's fine, my father had very bad news to convey. "..'twas past 6, when Jim left home; he was to meet up with Johann. Then I heard his scream, & watched as the killer ripped his chain..& ran!" My heart froze as I heard those words; I couldn’t follow what else he said. It felt hard to breathe, the lights felt dim, as I felt the blood rush to my head. Thoughts of Jim came fast now, a ball of energy all over the place.. How he'd get into trouble, & still bring a smile to my face. He always stood out of the crowd; his arguments drove us insane. He was with the US on Nagasaki & so had a golden Fat Boy made for his chain. More stations pass, more alight in a hurry to reach their town. Life I realized, is a train journey & Jim had already got down. And again the train comes to a stop, as I wipe away another teardrop. Odd-man jumps off the train. And from his pocket.. a golden chain? I see the Fat Boy He recognizes me, from the bus downtown. I see the stained sneakers. And as the train picks its pace,so does he.. & he's gone..

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2 Journeys

Things I need to stop for: deodorant, candy bars, some magazines, to while away the hours.. Have to catch the train in time, as it's a long trip north. With no one to keep me company, my tongue's going to rot. On my way to the station, there's a man who wishes he was me; he's running for the bus I'm on shouting "STOP!", as it starts to flee. He’s quite the messy dresser: in any crowd he'd be the odd-man-out. Tight tee on formal trousers & sneakers which have gone through a lot. The bus stops near a gizmo store; "JUST IN! Boy stabbed to death", the LCD's scream in unison. & odd-man stumbles aboard, out of breath. Can’t see who’s been killed this time, who’s been robbed of the right to live. In a series of deaths all across town: tragedies caused without any motive. -- The train wheels start turning, no time to get to my seat! My bogie is further down the order getting there won't be an easy feat. It's hotter in here than the midday sun. Different smells ride humid air. Fresh food & farts fight to be noticed & my nose watches them in despair. The cellphone rings in my pocket; my hands are full, they aren’t free. To let go of my case or the railing, would add to the others misery. Many stations pass, many alight: in the aisles,less people remain. As I move to my coach, a familiar sight Odd-man's on the train. As I rest in my seat I can finally see the call from home, now miles away. But as I started to say that all's fine, my father had very bad news to convey. "..'twas past 6, when Jim left home; he was to meet up with Johann. Then I heard his scream, & watched as the killer ripped his chain..& ran!" My heart froze as I heard those words; I couldn’t follow what else he said. It felt hard to breathe, the lights felt dim, as I felt the blood rush to my head. Thoughts of Jim came fast now, a ball of energy all over the place.. How he'd get into trouble, & still bring a smile to my face. He always stood out of the crowd; his arguments drove us insane. He was with the US on Nagasaki & so had a golden Fat Boy made for his chain. More stations pass, more alight in a hurry to reach their town. Life I realized, is a train journey & Jim had already got down. And again the train comes to a stop, as I wipe away another teardrop. Odd-man jumps off the train. And from his pocket.. a golden chain? I see the Fat Boy He recognizes me, from the bus downtown. I see the stained sneakers. And as the train picks its pace,so does he.. & he's gone..