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 If the sun married the rain - It would become a rainbow (quote by poet) This aquamarine aquarium is a prismatic prison, reflecting a reality of a pseudo persona and I've become tired from pretending behind this veil of pantomime portrayal just like the mind of 'Kurt Cobain.' I hunger for harmony, desiring for juniper and jasmine, to weave and wrap their tendrils, tenderly around an alchemy of angst, but my shroud is a burdensome blanket, like a softly spoken voice in a nocturnal nightclub. I shiver in the sunshine, soaking from secretive somber storm clouds, creating an autumnal aroma, so I'm wondering why it's raining in summer, weeping on fading misty rainbows, prompting me to pour like a tropical monsoon, reflecting it's spectrum shadows like red poppies under a crimson nostalgic November, orange embers from a dying bonfire, yellow pages of a forgotten book, green moss covering a timeworn tombstone, blue jay upon wilting royal forget-me-nots, indigo horizons slipping into midnight and a violet velveteen silhouette in a dimly lit basement. In windswept moors all I wish for, is for you to allow me to rest upon your blossom, like a raindrop - even if it's synthetic. I'm forlorn in a fathomless fate, where the Grim Reaper sits on his throne as the king of kismet. He was once was an unseen predator, but now, with enchanting enthusiasm, he's playing the organ in my hymn of death Its musical pattern keeps repeating in my head, like recurring nightmares. But when turquoise tides return at dusk, I hope to wash upon your bronze shore, shimmering like a trail of neon planktons. I can't keep blaming the pain, so let it pour... And let me live.
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