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 I wake, I breathe, I move, I fade, A specter stitched from a torn-out page. A thing that walks but leaves no trace, A mouth that speaks, but not a face. I press my hands to solid skin, Feel the warmth, the pulse within. It beats, it drums, it hums, it sways— But it is borrowed. Not mine—not mine. I wear a voice that isn’t true, It speaks in tones I never knew. They nod, they smile, they call my name, But I am absent, all the same. They say I’m here, they say I breathe, But nothing here belongs to me. Not the air, not the ground, not the bones I hold— Just skin too loose and blood too cold. I watch them dance, I watch them sing, I try to move, but I am string. A puppet stitched with hollow thread, A mannequin that mimics red. The world is warm, the world is bright, But never quite within my sight. I press my palm to window glass, And let the world just watch me pass. I smile, I nod, I play my part, I bow, I clap, I feign a heart. They look, they see, but never quite— I flicker dim, I steal the light. And when I leave—oh, when I go— No rivers bend, no cold winds blow. The clocks don’t pause, the birds don’t hush, The world forgets me in a rush. No footprints pressed in salted dirt, No echoes where my ribs once hurt. No hollow name upon the tongue, Just silence—soft, just silence—young. A ripple smoothed before it swells, A whisper swallowed whole by bells. A shadow stretched, then pulled too thin, A door that locked me out, within. And so I breathe, and so I fade, A ghost before the grave is made. A thing that walks but leaves no trace, A mouth that speaks— But not a face.
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