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)Required The world doesn’t want me— I feel it in the spaces between words, in the rooms that fall silent when I enter, in the way their eyes cut through me, sharp and indifferent. I exist like an echo no one listens for, a presence only ever tolerated, never embraced. They laugh like glass shattering, pointing fingers dipped in poison, whispering daggers into my skin. I hear them, I hear them… I hear them. The boys say my body takes up too much space, as if my skin was never mine to begin with, as if I should shrink into something softer, smaller, unseen. The girls look at me like a wound that refuses to close, a thing to be pitied, or worse—ignored. And my friends— God, my friends. They don’t feel like friends anymore. They feel like hands reaching, pulling, taking, and I give and I give and I give, until my ribs are hollow, my soul threadbare. But when I need, when I break, when I fall— there is nothing but the sound of my own breathing, ragged and lonely. I am so tired. Tired of searching for warmth in a world made of ice, tired of running when there is nowhere left to go. I used to love the game, the sound of the ball on the court, I used to think my feet belonged there. But I stumble now, hands grasping for something solid, and all I find is the weight of failure pressing against my chest. So tell me— what do you do when the things that made you feel alive become the things that remind you you’re not? The world doesn’t want me, so I press my back against the wall, trying to disappear into the paint. But I am still here, still breathing, whether they want me or not. Whether I want it, or not.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)