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 They say to shoot for the moon because even if you fall you are a star, but the stars hate the moon, hating how its existence is a beacon for a race won, a goal reached. they hate the moon and the way people plant flags and footsteps, shouting to the rest how they are the best, and that the moon is big and theirs. they hate the people who land on the moon and the all-nighters who see it, how they explore and adore, how it changes, and how even in the light you can see it. they hate the moon. the only one recognized as our very own, orbiting in our circle, making even Jupiter jealous with its many moons. their small successes are nothing like the moon we have famous words on. the stars are jealous of the moon because it will never burn out, never be long forgotten, an afterthought of constellations burned with the fuel of missed opportunities and dreams so close. no villains seeking the adoration of owning merely a star, something anyone can put their name on. the moon is imposing in every sky, the only one that is great on its own, craters and all. it does not need to be arranged, named, or aligned just right to matter. the stars are only as great as the ones they are clumped with to make a picture or a story. the stars hate the moon because they are second, the consolation prize you win when you weren’t great enough to be loved to the moon and back.
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