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 On the path of time, shadows dance long on the wall of consciousness, Conversations with myself, echoes of times past, I feel it is right to preserve them, to gather them in the hourglass of the soul, On the porch of the final days, I will open these notes and say, "Seriously?" Perhaps I will laugh with a sweet melancholy, or maybe I will cry in streams, Letting tears flow over all that was, all that I once felt. At a moment in my life, I was someone where greetings Were not just greetings, and the woman who lived years in prostitution Was not just a woman; she was the center of a universe, A story in herself, an epicenter of being. The smile of a waitress was never just a smile; It inspired flying poems, like butterflies on lonely roads, Which were never truly empty, full of ants, flies, Houses that sheltered souls. Routines sculpted an entire life, Even the banality we avoid was part of the life story. "Yes, it really happened," I will say. Time blurs life, You become a stranger to who you were, to the people you knew, To the life you lived. Soon, you become a stranger to the world. One day, they will remember your deeds, point to a house and say, "He once lived here." Your story will circulate, your life will become a fairy tale, Half truth, half lie. And the story will go like this: Once, the man was a boy—what an ambiguous rift that will be! The man was always a man. Fabulous lies they will paint, To draw the crowds, slowly, they will make the stranger You were to become a stranger even to your own existence. And look, the sun hits the wrong side of your face, The porch is still the porch and the notes are still within reach. Oh, this is not just a tale; it really happened. I was someone.
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