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 have given all I have— The hush of dawn, the summer’s breath, The songs I sang when skies were grave, The strength that stilled another’s death. Gentle light, the darkest night— Shine not for me, but for the lost, Who walk in chains, who dwell in blight, Who know not yet the final cost. I stood amid the thorn and flame, And wore the burden others fled, And when they mocked my mother's name, The stars grew silent overhead. I asked no crown, I craved no praise, I sought no scepter, built no throne; Yet still I rose through lesser days, And carved a path where none had gone. Rage against the gentle night, Where soft deceit and silence dwell— The thieves that robe the just in white, Then sell their stories down the well. The bushes hid the mourner’s tear, The tree’s deep roots drank up the grief; And time stood still, but none drew near, To offer hope, or bring relief. Lord, forgive them—still they know Not the weight of what they do; They trade their mercy for a show, And scorn the love that once was true. I have loved not them who kill With glances cold and tongues of lead; I have loved the meek, the still, The broken ones the world left dead. I gave my joy, I gave my youth, I gave the stars their silver song— And now I stand in ruthless truth, Among the dust, where I belong. Yet still, within the battered shell, A spark endures, a tender flame— A voice that will not bid farewell, A whisper none can quite disclaim. Let the wind cry out my name— Let the rain remember me; I have given all I have— And that, at last, shall set me free.
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