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 dad you unrolled the hose in the late afternoon when venus slips by the moon, fresh water for cemetery cypress, green monster in the middle of the yard, then I see you smoking carelessly among the plants, the spiraling smoke rising to the sky, police cars chase what they can on the avenue, while motorcycles hum jovially, the music playing on his cell phone has nothing to do with it, it is almost funereal like the cypress and produces the ghosts that come out of the speaker, the abandoned house next to ours, welcome one by one these hauntings, was a place of sacrifices, and received black goats on Fridays, there was singing into the night, people in white danced their tropical pagan cult, when they moved away the silence seemed like angels, sanitizing the structures, but today through the broken windows, the wind sings a litany, with a taste of heresy and abandonment, the ghosts dance and disappear into nevermore, as if taking away those who have already died, and the dead that we will also be, this is a dreary late afternoon father, you collect the hose and disappear inside our house, always worried about the bills to pay, I'm surrounded by little stars in the sky, they draw in light an erratic pattern, like a surrealist pentagram, and there is a frightening cypress, a ghost house next to me, the only thing that saves me from being raptured by the ambiguous feeling of fear and curiosity is the voice of my angry mother, Come have dinner you idiot! and I obey running toward the secure dining table. when I grow up, I will be this mix of coward and trailblazer.
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