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.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Blood Calls
So many gifts and so much pain sometimes it seems we've naught to gain for born within this maze of genes comes great insight but also burdens The gift of sensitivity this rare potential for connectivity with a genetic map, each child born must reach out far beyond their skin to transform. Reach out within creation rampant, detached from bloods vehement drumming descant each child must puzzle through the skin of man interweaving their genetics unplanned? Since, life and death must ebb and flow the weak child must pass, the strong must grow, and so.. unprotected sympathy declines some seek strong drugs while others seek their wine. It hurts, oh how it hurts to see to feel, to know, to hush, to be an amputee but sensitive souls can seldom bare raw, bloody life on earth without a care. And so, they come and go lost souls, if not aided by a higher hand's control. We all lose, we lose their divine gift their plight is ours and death comes swift. *Dedicated to Craig Cornish and all the sensitive souls who find life too much and must dull its blows.
Copyright © 2025 Debbie Guzzi. All Rights Reserved