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 Oh, how we are poisoned! The Yonega, the Wasichu, a new creature, different from us in more than just their white skin and sunflower hair. How did such a people come across the great waters? They come to our people with gifts of death. Their ulcers wrapped in calico cloth. Their fevers traded to us for our good food. Oh, they do share these devils, equally, with all the tribes on mother earth. Baskets of evil spirits in jars of glass and crockery made by hands not their own. Pouring toxins, shame and sloth, into our proud warriors. Our people are blinded by their shiny metals and made deaf to the ancient beat of our ancestors drums. We weave their stories into the braids of our youth who forget the stories of our people. Oseronni eyes of blue and green cannot see the wind that moves the land, shaping it and making the soil sing. Sunlight steals their sight. Mother Earth and Father Sky, and Brother River nourishes the Three Sisters who sustain us with their corn, squash, and beans. They are offended and leave us to our folly. The white man teaches us dishonesty and sloth, making of our backs the bow that draws the arrows that break our hearts. The bone in our back bends our faces to mother earth. The only color left to us is the crimson in each salty tear that falls. Oh, how we are poisoned! ~Bone in her back, as named by the Cherokee, her mother's people. Sometimes called Elizabeth Thomas by her father's people. Written by her hand on this day, January 28, 1812, New Orleans, Louisiana (Fiction)
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