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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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The phone rang it was Alfred, the man most likely to be my father if he confessed the relationship he had with Olga, the dancer from Budapest. It was important to me to find a real father, because the one they said I had was a loser living in a place called Hillevog, in an old German military barrack from the war, called the “second world war” because it included the USA and New Zealand. When Alfred rang I was practicing dance steps on the living room floor on music from memories “of all the girls I met before” bitterly romantic and sad yeah, and deep breathing and stretching too. Alfred had lost his violin and thought it had been stolen, no he had not called the law yet, but in the meantime could I helped him to buy another one, now he called me son! I offered to buy him a violin, Alfred said that was not a good idea since I don't know about music, but he knew of a shop where I could get the instrument cheap for about 50.000 euros ALFRED! I shrieked over down the line, I'm your son how can you my pathetic need for a father so cruelly? And slammed the phone down, that's another thing it is no longer possible to “slam” the phone to register one displeasure. Alfred rang back he had found the violin forgotten in a bar, we were friends again, he had called me “son”

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Papa Alfred

The phone rang it was Alfred, the man most likely to be my father if he confessed the relationship he had with Olga, the dancer from Budapest. It was important to me to find a real father, because the one they said I had was a loser living in a place called Hillevog, in an old German military barrack from the war, called the “second world war” because it included the USA and New Zealand. When Alfred rang I was practicing dance steps on the living room floor on music from memories “of all the girls I met before” bitterly romantic and sad yeah, and deep breathing and stretching too. Alfred had lost his violin and thought it had been stolen, no he had not called the law yet, but in the meantime could I helped him to buy another one, now he called me son! I offered to buy him a violin, Alfred said that was not a good idea since I don't know about music, but he knew of a shop where I could get the instrument cheap for about 50.000 euros ALFRED! I shrieked over down the line, I'm your son how can you my pathetic need for a father so cruelly? And slammed the phone down, that's another thing it is no longer possible to “slam” the phone to register one displeasure. Alfred rang back he had found the violin forgotten in a bar, we were friends again, he had called me “son”