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
Bastard Words
The words beg, haunt incessantly push to be heard -Dripping forth like a venom- too vile- about to kill it's own master Poisonous desecrator The scream, they push- I offered refusal and they gathered together a great army to slay me, ME! Their owner, their creator- their God! Soulless bastards each and every one of them No peace- not ever Sometimes they will wake me in a cold tremor Pushing to remember (fu**ing) with me They then concede into dark corners waiting... waiting... Oh! how those bastard words love to trick me! In conversation they allude me- just barely out of reach daring me- daring- as I spatter on like a fool! Then finally when sleep decides to come- (oh sweet sleep)- They crowd, screaming, jumping all over my brain! Daring me- but the body says no. They love to scream, those little elusive bastard words For days and weeks I can search behind every rock or blade of grass They are as free as any bird- at times they take to flights a fancy- Other times they are as the wily fox- just never... can- quite reach- them. Those bastard words never come when I call to them- begging, crying, pleading with them- driving me to the ragged edges of sanity- but those words, always around the next corner- or down the road And when- finally I give up- (I swear I heard them smirk) they breech the threshold - offering themselves Those little bastard words.
Copyright © 2024 Amy Green. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs