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 On a gray morning, when the sky weeps its clouds, I remember another time, another me, When landscapes flowed from my brush, And every color had its own story to tell. Emerald forests and ruby sunsets, Danced on the canvas of my life, I imagined I could paint happiness, To capture fragments of the soul in every stroke. But foreign voices, cold and sharp, Whispered that my dream was just an illusion, "It won't feed you, it won't save you," And the colors began to fade, slowly but surely. With a heavy heart, I put the brush down, And the world became a place of shadows and voids, My dream, now a lost echo, In a sea of unfulfilled desires and silent regrets. But in the silence of the nights, in the quiet darkness, Another friend rose from the shadows, A simple pen, with black and blue ink, Which began to write stories on white paper. And although I no longer paint with colors, With every word laid down on the page, I feel I recover a part of myself, A part of my buried dream. The ink becomes color, the words become strokes, And in every story, in every verse, I find my soul again, Lost among the shadows of the past. In a way, perhaps I never gave up, Perhaps I just changed my brush, And now, instead of landscapes and sunsets, I paint words that dance in my memories. And even if my dream has transformed, In the depths of my heart, I know it still lives, For art does not die, it only changes, And finds new ways to touch our souls. Thus, with every verse written, I recover my dream, And in the end, perhaps I have lost nothing, But merely found a new way To paint the world, with ink and word.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)