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 Perhaps among all the barricades I could have held, I was born to be read once and never to be opened again. To be glanced at in passing, but never the one who turns heads. To be a writer and never the one written about. To immortalize the beauty I find in others, But only to fall under the shadows of my own mortality. Perhaps the simplicity of my existence is what brings comfort to the main character. To become a poet and never an imperishable poem. Capturing words from a glance as they pass by me, To catch the hooks under the bright sunlight. Perhaps among all the barricades I could have held, I was born only to be read once and never to be opened again. And somewhere in the chaos, I learned to live with grace. In a world of shadows and lights, where stars fade and are reborn, I stand at the edge of time, a poet draped in melancholy. The barricades of my life, invisible walls, have held me in place, I was born to be read once, a book lost in dust and silence. Glanced at in passing, but never noticed, a shadow among lights, In a world of turned heads, I remain unseen, a writer of silence. There are no writings about me, for my words are for others, The beauty I find, I immortalize in them, but I remain ephemeral. The simplicity of my existence, a refuge for the heroes of my stories, I am the poet, but never the immortal poem, Words pass by me, I catch them, enclosing them in verses, Sunlight envelops them, but I remain in the shadows. Perhaps among all the barricades I could have held, I was born to be read once and never to be opened again. And somewhere in the chaos of life, I learned to live with grace, a melancholic poet draped in metaphors. In a world full of noise, I listen to the silences, Finding my peace in the chaos, beauty in the ephemeral. And perhaps, among all the barricades, I am just a poet, read once and forgotten forever.
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