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 Today or Yesterday Today the gas price is over 5.00. We struggle now to decide what to pay? The food bill, the rent bill, or the gas? Yesterday, or at least... not so long ago, it was different. We were self-sufficient. We were helping each other. We were helping those,,, outside, as well. It does not matter who you voted for, or if you believe it was fair or not. The fruit of the labors we see, shown by those in charge, are sour and rotten. The smell reeks, the sight, unbearable. They have removed, "In Trust". Now we are on our own. You and me, and them. The difference I do not agree. I did not vote for killing babies. Not at six months, not at three. Not at any time, for any fee. I did not vote for the fairness of swimming meets, that should never have taken place, uneven in their base conception, inevitable to fall. The truth even a high school boy, could match, anyone in the strawberry patch. Hands DOWN! I don't see the "pride", in changing the face of our country, to suit a few, while others lose all the rights they ever had. I don't see the fairness, in others that come here... and take all that is free, leaving those that fought for that, "FREEDOM" hungry. We are at war, indirectly but still. How is that okay? They burn the fields of food, take from the people, all that is left. Where does it stop? Where is the line? Where are the people, that don't just whine? Where are that patriots, that still exist, in the heart of heroes, sublime.
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