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 speak loud against the noise that wants to stifle my voice. I speak so the echo of my message can be heard above the clamor of the ordinary or the mundane. I speak volumes unknown to man but are already applauded in heaven so that as true wisdom can be heard even by a turned, deaf ear, which has been resting in the shadow of routine; never seeking greatness, just able to blend in. I speak....do others hear the eloquence of the passage of verbage or are they still standing in line to be the first to receive, "Yeah man, I'm with it". I pray not; for if that is their plight it is sorrowful indeed. I speak! Loud, enunciating through teeth clenched like fists, so that every word is phonetically correct and pronounced without flaws so that I am not misunderstood and what is gained from me is clear. I speak loud with a husky voice wrapped in honey and a warm blanket so that the words are soothing and the message is healing to the very core of man who is fighting not to die in a world where language is slurs and slanders and what used to be savored as pristine, mot just sounds like distant clanging to this generation's untrained ears. I speak to be understood, to overcome my own obstacles, to encourage myself, to bless the lives of others, to teach the babies at my knee and to share my life; but when I speak loud, above the waves of twisted idioms and misplaced silloquies, am I heard? I t is always my thought to speak not just to be heard but to be understood; and yet now, I wonder... am I being heard by my precious mother? For it is her attention I still desire most and that to me is the most dear to my ear.
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