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 Ah, the bloom was on the Rose yet, the taint of alcohol and drugs looms nightmare like behind her baby pink cheeks. Porcelain skin tones, raspberry rogue nails to scratch and lift bits of dirty lucre. She was clawing her way up, and hopefully out, he hits her, “Slut,” he screams at her. a sometime replacement sat beside him. His Chicano inner-city drawl hurt her ears and the fake diamonds studding them. The new girl beside him giggles… She’s due at work by nine, grabbing a smooth wrap-top and a mock grey skirt, she rushes from the room to the bank. She can still see his long fingers playing in other girls cleavage. Rose, well, Rose pays the rent. She strikes a teller’s pose behind the formica countertop... Long days, counting other peoples money kindness, and sweetness sucked from her like a ripe plum on a summers day. She needs work, more work. I asked her to help in the garden. Long blonde, buxom, bending over weeds, only six months to go to graduation an associate degree… Rose chuckles, “Look who I’ve been associatin’ with?” I eye the twenty-five thou lottery ticket in my jean pocket. “You want to move here Rose?” “What would they do without me?” I sigh, thinking of her alcoholic mother off bingeing and her “boy fiend”. The lottery windfall went for Rose’s college tuition. The bloom is off the Rose now, two hundred plus pounds later strung out beside her Mom on a ratty couch, she eyes the Diploma in it’s cheap black frame, and rocks her baby girl some things, never change…. *Names have been changed, and the amount given, but part of the ending has truely come to pass already [sigh]. The rest is all true.
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