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 For ten long years, I left no trace— No words, no cries, no names to blame. But now the silence stirs again, And finds its shape beneath the flame. They whispered truths that weren’t mine, And carved in air what never was. Not once they knocked, nor saw within— They spoke in masks, without a pause. Their eyes were fog, their voices sharp, Their stories sewn in secondhand thread. But shadows fear the quiet mind— And I was never truly dead. The ink returns, though not to prove, Nor to defend what can't be touched. It moves like smoke through hollow halls, To speak where words once cost too much. A garden grew where none looked down, Roots curled through stone in sacred hush. While others sowed in shallow ground, I bloomed in silence, slow and lush. Let them wonder what I knew, Let them question what I’ve kept. Some truths were not for open air— Some justice moves while others slept. I need no echo, no applause. My light is not for them to name. I rise not loud, but unafraid— From silence… beneath the flame. _____________________________________________________ Author’s Note Some stories are never shouted—they live between silences, tucked into the corners of memory, waiting for a quiet hand to write them down. This poem is not a confession, nor a cry for justice. It is a return. A whisper that survived the fire. A voice that was never lost—only watching, listening, becoming. Let those who need to understand, feel it between the lines.
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