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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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Dust. That’s all he ever was. That’s what I’m trying to tell myself, over and over, so I don’t forget. Don’t forget him. But I should. I need to stop caring about him. It’s in the past. But you just can’t seem to let him go. I need to let him go. Let dust be just that- meaningless sand. I need to focus on the present and future, you know? There’s revenge to be taken, graves to be cleaned. I can’t fixate on what’s beneath the ground. I still can’t bring myself to look at the headstone. They say nothing’s set in stone, but his name’s carved in slate. I remember the first time I’d heard it. My name’s [DON’T REMEMBER IT], he’d said. I’d say it was music to my ears, but his nasal voice was more like a kazoo. You really shouldn’t say those sort of things about him. But I do anyway. He was only ever dust. I shouldn’t try to remember him. I can’t remember him. I need to stop looking in the rearview mirror and stare out the windshield instead. At least then I’d be able to see the animals running into the road. That’s what he did. I keep reminding myself that, that he was suffering. But it wasn’t intentional. He’d just wanted a snack from the grocery store. Was that a crime? He’d wanted a muffin for a dollar ninety-five. He’d paid with his life.

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Dust

Dust. That’s all he ever was. That’s what I’m trying to tell myself, over and over, so I don’t forget. Don’t forget him. But I should. I need to stop caring about him. It’s in the past. But you just can’t seem to let him go. I need to let him go. Let dust be just that- meaningless sand. I need to focus on the present and future, you know? There’s revenge to be taken, graves to be cleaned. I can’t fixate on what’s beneath the ground. I still can’t bring myself to look at the headstone. They say nothing’s set in stone, but his name’s carved in slate. I remember the first time I’d heard it. My name’s [DON’T REMEMBER IT], he’d said. I’d say it was music to my ears, but his nasal voice was more like a kazoo. You really shouldn’t say those sort of things about him. But I do anyway. He was only ever dust. I shouldn’t try to remember him. I can’t remember him. I need to stop looking in the rearview mirror and stare out the windshield instead. At least then I’d be able to see the animals running into the road. That’s what he did. I keep reminding myself that, that he was suffering. But it wasn’t intentional. He’d just wanted a snack from the grocery store. Was that a crime? He’d wanted a muffin for a dollar ninety-five. He’d paid with his life.