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Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

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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There was a backup outside the radiation therapy room. Two patients were rolled up in their wheel chairs and left outside while their nurses went to check on the schedule. He was sixty-five. She was twelve. Sitting there in their humiliating hospital gowns they looked wherever they could to avoid the other’s eyes. When, in the awkward silence, their eyes finally did meet, she simply stated: “Stage 3.” He replied, “4”. “I finally shaved my head last week,” she blurted out, matter-of-factly. He pointed to his bald head and stated, “Four months ago.” “I was headed in this direction any way,” he added. “Looks nice,” she lied. “Yours, too.” For the first time they both smiled. She casually stated, “I’m probably going to die before my next birthday.” He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Don’t say that, you have a lot of life ahead of you.” “As for me? I hope I do die before my next birthday.” “It’s okay,” she said. “I can’t say that to my parents, it makes them too sad. Just thought you’d understand.” “I do.” “Radiation sucks.” “Big time.” “I’m pretty sure I am going to heaven,” she said. “I bet you’re right,” he replied. “I really haven’t lived long enough to be a bad person. How about you? Where do you suppose you will go?” “Hmm,” he shrugged, “Well,” he motioned his arms indicating the space about them, “Seems like I am already in hell.” “Yeah,” she agreed. “But then again,” he said smiling, “I do find myself talking to an angel.” The nurses returned and started pushing their patients in opposite directions. She reached out and grabbed his hand as the wheel chairs passed next to each other: “It’s okay to be afraid. Just don’t be afraid to live, too”, she said in tones far too wise for a twelve year old girl. Each subsequent radiation session he had, he looked for that little angel who gave him inspiration to live on but he never saw her again. On his last oncologist visit he saw a wall full of photographs. He immediately recognized the smile, bright eyes and bald head of his little angel. He walked over to arrange the pictures to see if the girl’s name was printed at the bottom of the photo. There he saw three letters that brought a tear to his eyes: R.I.P. He raised his eyes up toward heaven and said in a voice a bit too loud, “Thank you and Damn you.” Patients in the waiting room looked up at the strange man as he opened the door and walked out of the doctor’s office in good health.

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Radiation Sucks

There was a backup outside the radiation therapy room. Two patients were rolled up in their wheel chairs and left outside while their nurses went to check on the schedule. He was sixty-five. She was twelve. Sitting there in their humiliating hospital gowns they looked wherever they could to avoid the other’s eyes. When, in the awkward silence, their eyes finally did meet, she simply stated: “Stage 3.” He replied, “4”. “I finally shaved my head last week,” she blurted out, matter-of-factly. He pointed to his bald head and stated, “Four months ago.” “I was headed in this direction any way,” he added. “Looks nice,” she lied. “Yours, too.” For the first time they both smiled. She casually stated, “I’m probably going to die before my next birthday.” He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Don’t say that, you have a lot of life ahead of you.” “As for me? I hope I do die before my next birthday.” “It’s okay,” she said. “I can’t say that to my parents, it makes them too sad. Just thought you’d understand.” “I do.” “Radiation sucks.” “Big time.” “I’m pretty sure I am going to heaven,” she said. “I bet you’re right,” he replied. “I really haven’t lived long enough to be a bad person. How about you? Where do you suppose you will go?” “Hmm,” he shrugged, “Well,” he motioned his arms indicating the space about them, “Seems like I am already in hell.” “Yeah,” she agreed. “But then again,” he said smiling, “I do find myself talking to an angel.” The nurses returned and started pushing their patients in opposite directions. She reached out and grabbed his hand as the wheel chairs passed next to each other: “It’s okay to be afraid. Just don’t be afraid to live, too”, she said in tones far too wise for a twelve year old girl. Each subsequent radiation session he had, he looked for that little angel who gave him inspiration to live on but he never saw her again. On his last oncologist visit he saw a wall full of photographs. He immediately recognized the smile, bright eyes and bald head of his little angel. He walked over to arrange the pictures to see if the girl’s name was printed at the bottom of the photo. There he saw three letters that brought a tear to his eyes: R.I.P. He raised his eyes up toward heaven and said in a voice a bit too loud, “Thank you and Damn you.” Patients in the waiting room looked up at the strange man as he opened the door and walked out of the doctor’s office in good health.