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 day fell at its prey since man’s first fall, To feed poison the dragon hath lifted its head, Men have fallen into lucrative chasm, Many ‘succeeded’ perching on the dragon’s head, A few ‘defeated’ chewed ‘twixt the beast’s teeth. The ‘victory-markers’ decked themselves with stars stolen Which ought to be all men’s property shared in oneness. The ‘star-markers’ began to squeeze their subjects and minions, For minions take their root for their swampy survival, And run deep thro’ stony soil unhealthy for fertility. They sleep on stolen beds sans shame, Their survival runs thro’ coveted bills, And they break heads of the honest horse. Sweet is their rest on the spiky bed of the poor, Across their domain raise they their statues of the Poor’s sweat. They eat doctor’s pain thro’ people’s treasury, Never have they failed to lash at talents for self glory. Manifestos so sweet strolling at their lips; Yet sweetest are the deeds done for their families; Yet most bitter when hung around the Poor’s neck. They lay roads to their family line; But dig chasms to the poorest of folks. Lungs stained with bribes they can’t breathe themselves; Yet breathing thro’ folk’s idiocies. They can write stories; but not histories; Yet what they’ve made are fallacies. They dance on people’s neck until it breaks, They build castles themselves in the air; And for the poor lay roads to survive. They kick the belly of the sweating toil. They say they make the hen crow and the cock lay eggs, Unmindful of their fooleries they dig pit themselves. Who cares them? For one has to toil and survive; Yet I hate the politicians for want of honesty in them.
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