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 The world is over; we have become obsolete. Automation about to be complete. The aftermath is clear. We are living in the judgement zone, alone— Where we face ourselves in giant mirrors That both illuminate and mutate our true selves. We must come to terms with what we cannot undo, And rip out the parts we cannot carry through Into the next realm. We have no form. No shape. No visible structures In the next chapter. We exist as only feeling— Raw emotion, The electrical current from our brains Released into the atmosphere. Climbing ever up, Up, And up. Fighting back streams of tears— Not out of sadness, But not out of gladness either. More of a beauty. Everything is poignant. Everything has meaning. I do not want it to fade Further into oblivion. I cannot face Armageddon alone. I do not want to see the end. I want my planet back. The one I had in the nineties— When peace was a heartbeat away, When people worked for the greater good of humanity. Now all I see is hate, Retribution, And revenge. Where have all the cowboys gone? They stripped off the wranglers And traded them for Skechers slip-ins. Daintily cantilevering around their houses, Balancing their lives between bland boring banality And the extreme highs they seek At every red light. You might spot me in the window— Shadowed by taboo, Purifying my soul By granting fantasies to the bored. I might dance for money. But I also dance for movement. I want a revolution. And pretty faces Are known to launch armadas. My Spanish blood burns. I conquer their dreams. I overwrite their banal fantasy With illicit living— On the edge of reason and sanity. I want an old world— One built on trade Of goods, services, and ideals. This new world consists of nothing but vacant boxes, Technology’s cold refrain, And disease patterns. Hordes of demons hiding in suits of skin, Pretending to care for our kin— Betrayals and sin. Begin again.
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