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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.

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Of my life it’s been four long years of never-ending trips to the facility, you name it, in and out and up and down and over.ARGUMENTS? Don’t get me started. Every doctor and nurse on the planet. Wages war with my attempts at keeping you alive.BONY your hand was, and FOUL your British mouth. Demanding you acted and entitled calling everyone a yellow *****. “Do this not that and see that it’s done properly!”NO HELP. That’s what I got for my thankless job of rescuing your sorry ass out of the gutter they called Rehabilitation on Riverside Drive.SALVATION. I saved your sorry self. I fought off your greedy nieces. I dove into Hell and pulled you out. And now finally…FOUR YEARS LATER, at the nursing home, ninety minutes after they found your body lying cold on the floor they called me. “We were unable to resuscitate her.” PENNILESS.MONEY SPENT. So went their service.DEAD NOW. At last, I breathe and call the Executor.PARACHUTING! That’s what he called it, what he was doing out of town. Couldn’t assume responsibility. Couldn’t do what he promised the de-thronged former Gramercy Park Club President. LEFT out in the cold. That’s what I was. My name as back up executor.RELEASE the body. That’s what I told the nursing home, that’s what I told the funeral director.GREEDY BASTARDS. It’s what I thought when they said I didn’t plan for poll bearers or music at the service. CALLED THEM OUT ON IT. Called the whole God damn world out on it. And I rose and took over.STELLAR is what you looked like lying in that coffin. They did a bang up job making it look as if you were well, and on the way to the Opera or a party at the Grammy’s and jewels looked real enough. It was as if you had stepped into the coffin and passed out cold from too much champagne, remember when you did that? ARDUOUS AND CUMBERSOME were the services where the six good looking actor poll bearers carried your coffin and stood while Mother and I, the only one’s there, sat through the service in the Cathedral. NEVER ENDING is what the ride seemed like as I drove out to nearly the Hamptons, Nearly in Calverton.QUICK was the service there. They don’t pay as much homage to the wives of sailors. RELIEVED is what I felt when I left and finally came home. UNLOVED BY LIFE. You delighted in torturing people.

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Four Years Gone

Of my life it’s been four long years of never-ending trips to the facility, you name it, in and out and up and down and over.ARGUMENTS? Don’t get me started. Every doctor and nurse on the planet. Wages war with my attempts at keeping you alive.BONY your hand was, and FOUL your British mouth. Demanding you acted and entitled calling everyone a yellow *****. “Do this not that and see that it’s done properly!”NO HELP. That’s what I got for my thankless job of rescuing your sorry ass out of the gutter they called Rehabilitation on Riverside Drive.SALVATION. I saved your sorry self. I fought off your greedy nieces. I dove into Hell and pulled you out. And now finally…FOUR YEARS LATER, at the nursing home, ninety minutes after they found your body lying cold on the floor they called me. “We were unable to resuscitate her.” PENNILESS.MONEY SPENT. So went their service.DEAD NOW. At last, I breathe and call the Executor.PARACHUTING! That’s what he called it, what he was doing out of town. Couldn’t assume responsibility. Couldn’t do what he promised the de-thronged former Gramercy Park Club President. LEFT out in the cold. That’s what I was. My name as back up executor.RELEASE the body. That’s what I told the nursing home, that’s what I told the funeral director.GREEDY BASTARDS. It’s what I thought when they said I didn’t plan for poll bearers or music at the service. CALLED THEM OUT ON IT. Called the whole God damn world out on it. And I rose and took over.STELLAR is what you looked like lying in that coffin. They did a bang up job making it look as if you were well, and on the way to the Opera or a party at the Grammy’s and jewels looked real enough. It was as if you had stepped into the coffin and passed out cold from too much champagne, remember when you did that? ARDUOUS AND CUMBERSOME were the services where the six good looking actor poll bearers carried your coffin and stood while Mother and I, the only one’s there, sat through the service in the Cathedral. NEVER ENDING is what the ride seemed like as I drove out to nearly the Hamptons, Nearly in Calverton.QUICK was the service there. They don’t pay as much homage to the wives of sailors. RELIEVED is what I felt when I left and finally came home. UNLOVED BY LIFE. You delighted in torturing people.

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