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 come not with love, but with ledger and law, Smiling in suits, concealing the claw. China, America, Russia — the trinity of gain, Feasting on Africa’s marrow, her sorrow, her pain. They light the fires in Congo’s green heart, Fund the bullets that tear children apart. They speak of peace with poisoned breath, While signing contracts that spell our death. Terror is business, division a trade, Conflict is currency — alliances made. Africa bleeds so their stocks may rise, As leaders bow low, believing the lies. Youth of the soil, rise from the dust, Shake off the chains, reclaim what is just. No savior sails from the Western shore — The boats that came before brought chains and more. How long will we dance in the masquerade? Smiling while raped, in a grand charade. Once beaten, yes — but now twice blind, Africa, the battle is not of fists but mind. You feed the world with diamond and gold, Yet sleep hungry, barefoot, and cold. You mothered mankind, gave birth to the flame, Yet sit at the table without a name. Close the doors. Let the noise be still. Look within, summon your will. For unity is the only shield you own — Or else you die, divided and alone. Let your leaders not trade your soul for a plane, Or oil for silence, or hope for a chain. Let your mountains remember, your rivers cry — Till Africa stands, or surely will die. The echo of Biko, of Sankara's voice, Whispers this truth: there is no other choice. The mind of the oppressed is a nation’s tomb, But freedom — sweet freedom — is starting to bloom.
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