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 This is a poem I wrote about the struggles of mainly coal miners the industrial revolution and the hardships and luxuries of both the poor and the entitled rich . Home To Elysium Like potent perfume pervades the air, Then seduces the blackest soul, The poisonous glint of evil that exists, In the casting of men’s mould, That nature would not bow nor yield, To mere paupers dressed as Queens. To such men condemned by necessity, A tyranny of greed, Privileges bestowed on them, From sowing loves first seed. Still naked of humanity, Untruths stand fully dressed, Laws written for the aristocracy, Another built for the poor, That life should be as constant, As the waves are to the shore. Conceited hearts draped in jewels, Veiled eyes, no windows do they keep, Their attire bold and beautiful, Cavorting the falling sun, Demonised, claret blood, raped, The work of Bacchus done, Weaving yarns of silk to feed, to breed, The worms of this earth Beneath, below unsung. Ashen black, scarlet thieves’ life’s Wholesome kiss turns then weeps, Egesting, bleeding, soiled purple hearts, Bled white, shadows loom, Each darkened room; no door exists, Down underfoot in Abaddon’s keep. Inflamed spirits that dare not sleep, This molten quagmire of souls. Above industrial England, No leafy shade to rest, The choking dreams and billowing plumes, Their lives are all but spent, The bones of England’s still born, Returning to their womb, And the luxury of such freedom, As their drawn towards their plume. Life’s brief romance chaste lily-white, Consumed our love, this mortal sin, No Hour breathe or whisper dreams, No love this gaping mouth, No reason exists or lies within, No breast to lay my head, Eternal dearth, enduring hope, Preordained no rights of birth, Under another sky lives virtue. Cusp crescent fading, cry down the sleeping sun, So fragile bones may heal, And dulled rainbow blisters pierce, Soles firmly underfoot, As red blood run black through every street, Each cobbled heart since trodden, Watching brave shallow sleep, Voices silenced for Gaea’s fodder. Emblaze fading embers of love’s Sweet embrace with sallow skin And arid lips deaths lullaby, Gently kiss as she cradles, Last breath to sleep. Soaring culvers caress this shell; Despoil this world of life’s first kiss, Untainted in the panacean fields to wait, Where stolen hearts are found, Home to Elysium.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)