Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

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)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
A Little Boy Again
When she ignores me, I am suddenly small, a little boy again, kneeling at the edge of a world too vast to hold my cries. I am pulling at the hem of her silence, whispering, shouting, "Look at me. Just look at me." Her absence feels like my mother’s back, turned as she stirs a pot too deep to see the bottom of, her hands busy with everything but the fragile weight of my longing. I am that boy again, holding up a picture I drew, lines crooked, colors bleeding— "Is it enough? Am I enough?" But she does not turn, and I swallow the answer like a stone in my throat. I thought I left that boy behind, buried him under years of growing up, of pretending to be whole. But her indifference calls him back, and there he is, clinging to my chest, his small hands trembling, his voice breaking: "Why won’t she see me?" And I realize, it is not her I am pleading with. It is my own shadow, the echo of a child still searching for a light that does not fade. So I sit in the quiet, alone with the boy I was, and I hold him gently. For even if she never turns, even if her silence becomes the sky, I will teach him to stand in the rain, to love himself without needing someone else to say, "I see you."
Copyright © 2025 Jay Kirk. All Rights Reserved