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 the photo graphic, 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


Main/Poem Text

Background Position Alignment:

Upload Image: 

 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:

Layout: - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
The Tourist
Have I been one among the chain of those who come in awe, and strain to point a finger, poke a nose into a past, that I don't know To claim to know, and then exclaim I understand the sound of pain? One who gawks, then talks of things but has no clue of what they mean? A stranger to a sacred place ignoring reverence and the trace of those who dug, then laid the stones, to make this place a home? Am I of one who claims to know Who borrows someone's history? To journey here, in tourist clothes, as if this place were mine to own...? Who stirs the dust and tramps the grounds, pointing, laughing, checking pamplets yet, hearing nothing, but the sound of my own ego echoing... Only here to click my Canon, take a shot or quickly have the proof, the lot to prove to someone back at home what matters not to them, at all Text someone far, who doesn't care, that I've been here or there...? Have I been one? So far, so near? Never conscious while I'm here of those who came so long before Of someone's loss, who laid the stone or someone brave who called this home? Who leads me to a crooked tree once planted by a family where lies a child another, child and all the while I smile and carry on Compelled to come....yet, do I know? I did not own, the years that tell Nor mine to own, are tears that fell, ... two hundred years ago? ______________________________________________________ Resubmitted For Contest: "Premiere Contest # 7" Sponsored by Skat
Copyright © 2020 Carrie Richards. All Rights Reserved