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 With belief like religion, pursed lips speak a phrase with a touch that could hold a cyclone in place with drama, to consider that the sun shines eternal, that worlds have no boundaries, and time’s a pest infernal. A revolution of two martyrs, we could raze the avenue, exiled to our prison flat to make all the love we wanted to. Four walls high, that no archer could mount to reach this place and the realm is ours alone, my Queen of Hearts and Space. With hair spun of silk and ivory skin, seldom chapped lips of cinnamon Midas could keep his horde of gold, your touch makes a man of a brute. Whispered words to haunt my dreams, ever fixed upon you, my eyes transparent with light reflect the endless blue. Sickness but a minor detour, health for granted evermore, Life but a game for two hearts a glow and Death but a place that we didn’t wish to go. Solar fragments wrenching open the blinds, my only defense To protect my unkempt shell, sleepless, devoid of sense. The walls stripped of color as music stripped of melody So this must be hell- death would be less of a malady. Walkways of quicksand tug at my heels-or an older man’s maybe? And an anvil heart, blacker than coal, is harder than an iron sea. Five fifty for forgetfulness, a life of grainy videotapes and two day old Chinese in a box holding the abyss. Day and night blur in a twisting tempest; everything’s amiss Every walk is a journey, and every story comes out a rime, and all is choking, crippled in the sludge of time. Death is now the savior, may it take me in my sleep, for in sickness I stay always, in an everlasting weep. Eyes fogged up like London, cast in shambles- “take a number”- As our glass silhouettes reflect our hearts torn asunder Mystified, crucified, Love, why have you forsaken me?
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