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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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Down, down the known street where the quite evening lying down, my legs took me a walk Sending the sun to west, something that street holding for me. Little, little lonely voices' hands knocking my ears from where tied my steps with rope pulling toward them. Under a tree, a mere brown box. Under the mortal sin, placed the box of abandonment who. Stygian, stygian dirt on their white furs as longing woken on their red eyes for their mother. The hunt of hungriness befell their tums how long Whipped in thirstiness, the begging voices of two little kittens someone to be their saviour. I found inside the box of abandonment. Wanderer, the wanderer hiding eight hundred rivers in its rucksack. On that day, the wanderer unseen stopping by that street. Do has a lot empathy in the thunderous wanderer' rucksack, don't want to give the kittens cold trembling. Tight, tightly their voices must have grabbed knobs of unclosed ears passing by that street. When I was about to carry the box of abandonment to home, they came. Two unfamiliar girls. The box of abandonment on their hand, they put. To be unfold in their paths, blessings waiting for them. Bigger their sympathy's footmark upon their foot What that street holding, I saw.

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Box of Abandonment

Down, down the known street where the quite evening lying down, my legs took me a walk Sending the sun to west, something that street holding for me. Little, little lonely voices' hands knocking my ears from where tied my steps with rope pulling toward them. Under a tree, a mere brown box. Under the mortal sin, placed the box of abandonment who. Stygian, stygian dirt on their white furs as longing woken on their red eyes for their mother. The hunt of hungriness befell their tums how long Whipped in thirstiness, the begging voices of two little kittens someone to be their saviour. I found inside the box of abandonment. Wanderer, the wanderer hiding eight hundred rivers in its rucksack. On that day, the wanderer unseen stopping by that street. Do has a lot empathy in the thunderous wanderer' rucksack, don't want to give the kittens cold trembling. Tight, tightly their voices must have grabbed knobs of unclosed ears passing by that street. When I was about to carry the box of abandonment to home, they came. Two unfamiliar girls. The box of abandonment on their hand, they put. To be unfold in their paths, blessings waiting for them. Bigger their sympathy's footmark upon their foot What that street holding, I saw.