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 empty page stretches before me, a white blank page with nothing but ink and a pen to fill its crevices. I pour out my ink-black heart, to stain the paper with use-less words of a fashion and I know that nothing can hurt me now. My heart is spread far and wide in every word on every page I write. It can never truly be found and pieced back together. Just like a personality, I am not one but many. I may look like one but looks can be deceiving. Or have you not figured that out yet. I cannot help you with whatever it is you are searching for, but maybe what you’re searching for is already found and what you thought you had is really what is lost. Or maybe it is the other way around. Does Blood Leave Black Stains Down The Window Panes, Or Have My Ink Covered Finger Tips Left Their Marks There As Well. No matter, tomorrow’s storm will wash it away with the flood waters that pour down from heaven. Rain is rolling down my window. Don’t cry. The window, broken, weathered, worn, mirrors me in ways unimaginable. I will not look at the reflection in the mirrors. I will not gaze through those unseeing eyes that so happily deceived me. I will not talk with this ill-fit mouth that has so easily devoted itself to shame. I will only write. And think. My mind is untainted by the black blood that spills from my fingers. Painting the windows until no sun shines through and no matter how many floods are sent to repair me they will not show what I am. To you I may look like me. But inside, inside is where the darkness hides. And the monsters tend to come out at night. They stain my hands black with the blood they pour out onto the white blank page in front of me, staining the paper with use-less words that no one will ever see.
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