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 way we used to be
From learning the abc’s, to count from 1 to 3 your favorite uncle singing the twelve days of Christmas, the particular line a partridge in a pear tree. Innocent thoughts, learning how to walk, things that were formed serious when taught how to talk. How did I get here? A girl who does not know the definition of how to live, countless made up schedules which I have never made a habit, some choices made that were oh, so rapid. The fight with my mind, the countless cars that have passed by, knowing someday one of them will be mine. Growing up is so hard why can’t it go in back to the way we used to be, singing abruptly not caring what was in front of me just learning new laughs and what’s ahead of me. My inner-child some times takes me for a spin gives me a kick for my breath, I would pay anything to go back to the way we used to be. The same uncle that used to hold you so tight, is now struggling to gain control of his marriage and soon to be divorced wife. The picture, facade of the wrong and the right, suddenly comes to light. I wish it can go back to the way we used to be. Looking at my mom like a goddess and a warrior, that the men she dated were always the sweetest. The way she drank when I couldn’t see it, the innocent smile I’d give when she jokes but now I sit and groan. I loan for that same feeling of secure and demeaning, the affirmation of self clarity. My life back then was seen as not such rarity, I was eager to grow up in a second, not only from self acceptance to the world but to get back at the hitting and pulling of the hair that was torn off me by an evil witch in disguise. As the perfect stable wife that can cook nice, but in reality she was a beast. Taken 7yrs of my child hood at the cost of my innocence and my inspiration to be small again. To the way we used to be I apologise for what we had to see but we had no choice. The innocent, defenseless, and vulnerable unaware native accent It brings me back and has me thinking about my choice. The choice of whether or not to accept the life given. Again, I was still a kid but to my real feelings it wouldn’t differ. If I could go back to the way we used to be I would stand my ground regardless of the situation. Tell my step-mom it’s wasn’t right, tell my mom to stop putting on a fight, tell my uncle to get a hold of himself before he loves anyone else, tell my ‘step brother there’s more to life then to do the unspoken, tell my dad thank you for not letting me see anything he had done to protect my view of him as a father, tell my mom to stop rushing into a relationship yearning for the unconditional love tell her to stop her addiction or find a way too because she had no idea how it was affecting me, tell her to stop inviting my other uncle into my life single handingly.. tell my sister to not feel guilty for not knowing what was going on. I wish we can learn to push aside our differences and overcome the violent silence and memorable arguments, I wish we could create a stable enviroment for growth and unconditional love of non-ironment. I wish we can grow together, learn together, see together, talk together for more than 5minutes without it creating an argument, I wish that we could live in peace. I wish I can go back to the way we used to be. We as in me. 7 going on 16.
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Book: Shattered Sighs