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
your tears were my ambrosia
i never wanted to be a god— just someone you cried in front of. that was enough divinity for me. your grief tasted like pomegranate seeds, sweet and bitter and buried in the soft ruin of you. i held your sobs in my palms like something holy. like juice from a fruit i didn’t deserve. i didn’t cause your sadness. but i didn’t stop it either. sometimes, i fed it slow just to watch it bloom— a bruise unfolding beneath your skin like pressed violets. they say love is patient, but i was ravenous. i drank from your breakdowns like they were wine offered by trembling hands. i told myself i was comforting you, but i think i just loved the way you needed me most when you were breaking. your tears were my ambrosia— your pain, a feast i never earned. and now that you’ve stopped crying, now that your eyes have turned to stone and your voice no longer quivers, i sit at an empty table with shaking hands and no more hunger. i miss your ache the way gods miss prayer— not because they deserve it, but because silence is a kind of death when you’re used to worship.
Copyright © 2025 Ichha Ghosh. All Rights Reserved