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 some days, it feels like i’m drowning in air, the kind of breath that scrapes your lungs raw, and i wonder if i’ll ever remember how it felt to be anything other than tired of existing. i see people move through life like it’s easy, like there’s a script i never learned, and i’m a spectator in my own skin, watching my hands go through motions i don’t feel, saying words i barely hear. they think they know me— they don’t see the hollow inside, the parts of me that feel unfinished, the places where i keep my distance, where i smile, nod, say the right things, and none of it reaches the ache underneath. there’s a darkness so sharp it’s nauseating, a noise in my head like static, like screaming, like everything inside wants to claw its way out, and i am quiet, always quiet, while the pain drowns me in silence. i don’t know how to touch happiness anymore, or even sorrow, not the real kind, just this numb ache, this emptiness where i should feel something, anything— but it’s all lost, slipping through fingers i barely believe are mine. sometimes i wonder if i’m a person at all or just a cracked shell pretending, and it hurts, god, it hurts, because i am so close to everyone and yet a thousand miles from myself, no warmth, no sympathy, no empathy, just this empty performance that i can’t remember how to stop. and no one sees it—the way i’m slipping, how existing feels like a weight i can’t carry, how every day tastes a little more bitter, how every hour feels just a little further from where i thought life would be. i am here but i’m not here, a shadow with a voice, a ghost with hands, and i wonder if anyone could ever look past the mask long enough to see the silence tearing me apart from the inside out.
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