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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.

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At midnight, deep beneath D.C.'s pride, A tunnel breathed secrets the daylight hides. Pennsylvania Avenue—so clean, so grand— But under its bones lies a cursed land. Dark suits walk halls soaked in red, A velvet silence where the truth lies dead. The walls pulse with symbols from ages old, Carved by hands both cruel and cold. Fridges hum like funeral songs, Storing innocence stolen wrong. A sip from goblets—ritual grace— Drinking what once had a name, a face. Chants rise low, in voices torn, As one calls out to the south, forlorn: “Oh Lucifer, bless this sacred feast, Let hunger grow, and hope decrease.” A screen glows bright with human pain— War, rape, hunger—all for gain. To them, each scream a golden prize, Each tear a ladder toward the skies. They laugh where others starve and die, Feeding greed with every lie. Their power grows from broken lives, While justice sleeps, and truth survives. But not all is lost in the dark and deep, For even shadows cannot keep The whispered hope of one brave child, A single spark—gentle, wild. That whisper stirs, that ember cries, And ghosts of justice start to rise. The stars above no longer rest— A reckoning moves from east to west. So when the winds begin to scream, And nightmares flood the halls of dreams— They’ll ask who knew, who dared believe, What horrors bloomed beneath the feast.

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The Feast Beneath Pennsylvania

At midnight, deep beneath D.C.'s pride, A tunnel breathed secrets the daylight hides. Pennsylvania Avenue—so clean, so grand— But under its bones lies a cursed land. Dark suits walk halls soaked in red, A velvet silence where the truth lies dead. The walls pulse with symbols from ages old, Carved by hands both cruel and cold. Fridges hum like funeral songs, Storing innocence stolen wrong. A sip from goblets—ritual grace— Drinking what once had a name, a face. Chants rise low, in voices torn, As one calls out to the south, forlorn: “Oh Lucifer, bless this sacred feast, Let hunger grow, and hope decrease.” A screen glows bright with human pain— War, rape, hunger—all for gain. To them, each scream a golden prize, Each tear a ladder toward the skies. They laugh where others starve and die, Feeding greed with every lie. Their power grows from broken lives, While justice sleeps, and truth survives. But not all is lost in the dark and deep, For even shadows cannot keep The whispered hope of one brave child, A single spark—gentle, wild. That whisper stirs, that ember cries, And ghosts of justice start to rise. The stars above no longer rest— A reckoning moves from east to west. So when the winds begin to scream, And nightmares flood the halls of dreams— They’ll ask who knew, who dared believe, What horrors bloomed beneath the feast.