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 They often ask me why I don’t wear festive clothes, why I don’t paint my face, Don’t you also like to shine in the light of a clear morning? Oh, if only I could tell them that every act of beautification feels like just a veil over a wound, As if I were hanging curtains over broken windows, hiding the emptiness of a room. They tell me to apply mascara, but I carry shadows under my eyes that cannot be concealed, They tell me to color my lips, but sometimes I struggle to part them to speak heavy words. It’s not rebellion or indifference, but a weariness that settles like a stone on the soul, Whispering from deep within my bones, “What is the purpose of this parade of lights?” They say, “Beautify yourself and you will feel the comfort of the light that envelops you,” But how can I explain that feigned brightness only makes the darkness seem more real? Every brushstroke feels like a lie, as if I were painting a smile on a shadow, I’ve stood before mirrors like standing before graves, trying to awaken a flower dried by time. A version of me once bloomed under the warm sun, now withered under the burden of long winters, Remaining silent in an empty room, where past desires whisper that I am still alive. It’s not that I don’t want to feel beautiful, but beauty seems like a mask that no longer fits, And there’s no makeup that can bring light to a place that’s forgotten how to shine. So no, I don’t dress in festive clothes, because I’m already dressed in mourning, And no highlighter can bring brightness to a heart that seeks to remember the light.
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