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 my block got bones made of brick and breath. she bleed through cracked hydrants, catch cigarette ash like snowflakes, and see like a fly to death. her ribs? fire escapes- bent, rust-bit, bruised. kids dangle off ‘em like loose teeth, their joy just one cracked step from falling. she don’t blink. she sees the crackhead two buildings over lean so far out the window it look like gravity let go on purpose. she sees the baby-faced boy swipe an apple from the fruit stand, run like his momma’s belt already in mid-air. she hears the couple across the courtyard curse in two languages at once— “coño, cabrón, i told you don’t touch my phone!” plates crash like punctuation. she know who did it. always. remember joe? down the block? she know it was lil ronnie shot him— don’t matter what his momma said on the news. she know when the baby’s daddy ain’t coming back. she know which apartment got roaches, and which girl been sneaking out with borrowed lashes and somebody’s man. she see the 13-year-olds roll up outside the laundry, blow smoke like they men already, moms swearing they honor students while they tag walls with their street names in sharpie. she see grandma on 4c push that stroller with one hand, baby crying, bottle hanging, other kids yelling “nana, i’m hungry!” while her daughter chase smoke and basslines down lenox. she don’t talk much, but she remember everything. her silence ain’t peace— it’s storage. she carry folks’ stories like groceries up six flights. she don’t sleep easy. never did. she hums lullabies in radiator heat, carries secrets in stairwell echoes, and if you listen close, you might hear her say your name too.
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