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.
Enter Title (Not Required)
Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your feet. Are they wounded in service? Show me your heart. Have you left a place for divine love? Quote by Fulton J. Sheen Nature has no underdogs, myths may be false, Those with no love seem to be caught in a waltz. To adjust our hurdles, we meticulously rehearse, We reject being wounded in this erratic universe. Our faith appears to have lasted since antiquity, Being pulled by the wind, unfettered by eternity. We are bound by the rules of nature's— sway, Not ready to face even the least severe decay. Hands were utterly washed in widows' tears, Too often, resonating gunfire rippled in my ears. Fear has numbed souls as an effect of swift hope, I'm aware we may prevail over all this via scope. Plainly, the soldiers' wounds are spewing blood, And ooze as mud in a leader's spring-tide flood! The white in the house is turning a rich crimson, And it appears that our freedom can't be won. As they said, we have a slim chance of winning, We'll never prevail over hate in the mind's sting. We're in a quagmire over the filth we've been told, Yet further soldiers rise into a cloud—cold. Broken spirits drenched in bloody destiny, Frustrated by the final result for evil zestily. Chronic delusions of woebegone escape, Vociferating boisterously below Liberty scrape A cloudless sky is charred by a radiant, bright light, And charcoal floats up, stroking my dangling feet. Below lies a blazon of bleak, dark, stinging plight, The dead, however, have no awareness of defeat. Many wounds whisper in our view as we get near. As the earth weeps alone, seek renewal with tear. Finding our kin who were sold on the dark web, Untruth now flows, and people's faith does ebb. 1St Place Contest Winner Written: May 22, 2023 This or That, Vol 18 Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Enter Author Name (Not Required)