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 An unfinished letter drenched in blood, the youngest of soldiers dropping the sweaty pen from his dangling hand; and while his vision blurs, his thoughts are escaping... Too young to die in a desert with its sun scorching, too soon to meet an unfair and horrifying death; stealing all the laughter life reserved for the kindest, not giving him another chance to live what he was anxiously planning! Don't bury him into an undignified soil only visited by spiders, on this ground nothing grows, but palm trees that soothe the travelers; over this arid land, hot winds ravage the sand dunes, where he often cheated death: in a cemetery, undeneath the shade of a pine tree, his body must be buried and rest! Too young to die, not to ever envision the delights of the future, or to plan his tomorrow without the horrendous battles that intensify his fear; too young too die for a freedom that others are willing to give up: to be subdued by the oppressor, who defiantly will drink from the fullest cup! Screams for help aren't heard, but muffled by the whirring wind; and should he die alone, not grasping his buddy's tight hand: what message can he leave for his family...not knowing his last wish? Dust hastily advances to close his dying eyes and end his weak breath... Too young to die, and not hear someone's prayer, to comfort his lonely heart with heavenly words spoken by angels; and rising up his mortally-wounded head, he can hear a choir: coming from a place calmer than a night' sky...look! The dying soldier smiles! Entered in Deborah's Guzzi contest, " War...what is it good for? " Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Enter Author Name (Not Required)