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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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There right next to it was another piece. One. Two. Three. There were too many to count. I was surrounded. There are millions of them, scattered every which way my eyes couldn’t contain the amounts there were. Broken Glass The window. The window shattered into this. Broken glass. With droplets still falling from my face I ignore the ink that used to be my reason to stop working. I rummage through every cabinet and crevice I can think of searching for something, anything. My hand came across a small bottle, yes this will have to work. I got to my knees, glass scratching and stabbing them, but I don’t feel it, I can’t feel it. “Please please no no no” My hands shake as I grab the shards and glue the edges back together. Too caught up in my task I can’t see the blood that my fingertips have released. The glass was killing me, yet I still try to fix it. Fix It. There are too many pieces. My fingers are not even mine anymore. Ink still controls me. The potatoes I was preparing rot away. I look up to see a brand new window in replace of the broken one. But I still try to fix it. I don’t want the new one. I long to hear the whistle that I once hated. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Please let me have it back. End of part and story.

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Shattered Pt;2

There right next to it was another piece. One. Two. Three. There were too many to count. I was surrounded. There are millions of them, scattered every which way my eyes couldn’t contain the amounts there were. Broken Glass The window. The window shattered into this. Broken glass. With droplets still falling from my face I ignore the ink that used to be my reason to stop working. I rummage through every cabinet and crevice I can think of searching for something, anything. My hand came across a small bottle, yes this will have to work. I got to my knees, glass scratching and stabbing them, but I don’t feel it, I can’t feel it. “Please please no no no” My hands shake as I grab the shards and glue the edges back together. Too caught up in my task I can’t see the blood that my fingertips have released. The glass was killing me, yet I still try to fix it. Fix It. There are too many pieces. My fingers are not even mine anymore. Ink still controls me. The potatoes I was preparing rot away. I look up to see a brand new window in replace of the broken one. But I still try to fix it. I don’t want the new one. I long to hear the whistle that I once hated. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Please let me have it back. End of part and story.