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 Sad news keep me awake; Counting stars through the ceiling, Hiding from the sun under my blanket, Racing about inside my tiny room, With a mind so agitated and delirious. With a heart quivering with fibrillations. And lungs gasping for air under resting conditions. Lying down on my old ragged mattress; Pacing around and coiling in this furnace, Of heat and warmth and sweat on a cold night! Thirsting for a gallop of wine,when water is no more, Yawning for yams,when potatoes have gone bad. I think along an endless journey, That I believe will never end in my time. Reminding me of that appointment, With a surgeon on my birthday Eve, Leaves my peace in pieces. It literally kills me alive, Through the free long nights it gives me- Like it did not see me yearn for more darkness, To hide my face from the light of day- When my name had been dragged to shame. I'm moving along with the clock- Impatiently waiting for granny's cock to crow, When,at the arrival of dawn, I will stand to face my fears- Holding back my anxiety and worries. Lest I dance to the tune of depression! Or even cardiac arrest during the anaesthesia. I will dress lightly and mask it up, Beautify my face with borrowed smiles, While I glow,thanks to petroleum jelly. I will hold my bag and wave at my little boy, Telling him I have gone to the salon- And that I shall return to breastfeed him. Into the hands of my maker I put tomorrow. For I don't know what it has in store for me; Fresh or stale peas,time will tell! And my faith, I lift to the heavens, Looking to them for rescue angels- That will take me out of the bowels , That sit between life and death. Ampurire Anitah.
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