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 A wet patch of wa-ter glints unusual! It was my ears that it re-flected, sand or dust or what-ever it wasn’t no more, got every-where; es-pecially bet-ween my grey hairs. It didn’t matt-er, I wasn’t thirsty no more. Scurry-ing off to… what was it called again? Wooood. Yes, wood boards dis-carded, they say. May-be food? Could be, my family hasn’t eaten in days. Hard, scout-ing for food, in a…waste-land. That’s what they called it. Waste-land. A place where re-sources (another long word for food) is rarely found. That means bad, very bad things. No, horr-ible! The sun rises, it’s heat toy-ing with me. Why must you toy with us? Why must you pre-ssure us with your harsh heat, when we are but meagre rats? Questions, un-answered ones at that, those were the ones that made me mad, or both-ered, as they say. Eng-lish, the language of hu-mans, the cause of these per-sisting horrors; they have fled, but they have left Eng-lish here for us to learn. Snip-pets from the papers that tell us the news, the things that helped me push sounds out of my mouth and form them into words. Now, as I move my hands and shuffle the re-mainders of this… thing. Used to be green, not green no more; that’s all I know. Twist-ing my wrists and hands, un-washed, but not un-cared for, Here, there is no hi-erarchy, just des-perate silence, as we scrape, and scrape; families go hungry, but not dead. We will sur-vive.
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