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 I never wanted a man Whose words are heavy and slurred, Drowned in the alcohol He drinks without a word. I had high hopes back then— No prince or knight in gold, Just a patient, gentle hand For my own to hold. A compassionate man, a loving fool, A doting father to our own. Yet cruel fates have left me here, Sitting in this house, alone. My kids wreak havoc in the house, My daughter playing doctor now, My son, her patient on the floor— Safe from the storm, somehow. Unaware that all they have is play, Beside a tilting dollhouse ledge, A fragile home of plastic walls Teetering right upon the edge. Yet through the grief, a quiet peace: Thank god they only know of joy. Even though I know too well, It’s a peace he will destroy. My eyes keep darting to the door, Waiting for his heavy tread, The kids call 'Father' now, The man to whom I am wed. Fate is a cruel, binding thing; It locked me in with no escape. No wings to fly, no ground to hold, No independent path to shape. But just when darkness settled in, And I had thought I'd had enough, Life brought me two small, shining stars, Woven from a gentler stuff. The front door clicks, and there he stands. My eldest looks up from her play, Already fluent in his steps, Reading the shadows of the day. Her small eyes dart to meet his face, Gauging the shifting, heavy air— Will he be the loving father now? Or the monster waiting there?
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