Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

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)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Gaia’s Last Breath
We were given one garden, One womb spun in stardust and sea foam, But we — children of steel and smoke — Turned it into a battlefield of greed. The trees whispered secrets of balance, But we silenced them with chainsaws. The rivers wept in silver tones, Now they gag on plastic and oil. Oceans rise not in wrath — But in sorrow. Mountains crumble under the weight Of our endless hunger. We drill into her lungs, Build monuments on her broken bones, While she, ancient and patient, Bleeds chlorophyll and cries in storms. We chase Mars like fools — Dreaming of red dust kingdoms While choking the blue cradle That has always held us. Colonize the stars? We haven’t even earned the ground we stand on. We mistake technology for wisdom, And illusions for evolution. Gaia does not hate — She endures. But she will cleanse herself, With fire, with flood, with ice, Until silence returns. And when the last human voice Vanishes into ash, She will bloom again — Brighter. Wilder. Free. We had a home. We had a chance. We chose profit over prophecy. And so, the Earth will heal — But not for us.
Copyright © 2025 Chanda Katonga . All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things