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 She walks in to the disco Feeling pretty hot Glances from the others Tell her that she’s not. Killer heels do just that Lips a cupid bow Drops her Prada handbag Wrinkles start to show. Downs a quick Bacardi Drinking makes her bold Confidence is growing Away from her cuckold. Geezers in the corner Laugh into their pints Quick one round the back Better than a fight. Twenty each, bet is on, First one out the door Get another round in Won’t take long for sure. Lads all start to cheer him Barely heard above the beat Sweat pours down his forehead Glass beneath his feet. Heads off to the ladies Startled by harsh light Best friend at her side Two cougars in the night. She looks into a mirror Mascara down her cheeks Wipes her eyes, full of doubt The company she seeks. Another bottled Breezer The pain will go away Think about tonight How to make him pay. First attempt, chat her up Give out some on blarney Flashy car, lots of cash, Time spent in the Army. Down in one, more to drink Atmosphere is cool Muscle flex, turns her nose Starts to feel a fool. Offers her a lift home Does she want a ride Drop off by the station Should she keep her pride. Love bite on the shoulder Hopes it can’t be seen Stomach churns with sickness How stupid she has been. Gets home Sunday morning Feeling really cheap Clock shows 4 am Really needs to sleep. Old man in drunken stupor Whisky glass beside Slithers into bed Sleep is where she hides. Later in the day She’ll be chatting on the phone Talking of the weekend How she was not alone. Was it really worth it It doesn’t solve a thing Bitter clouds descend Floor begins to spin. On the other side of town Down another street A wife is full of tears Her husband is a cheat.
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