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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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The vast array of colored lights illuminated the jovial faces of the youthful teens As Ms. Durmstrang antiquely waltzed with Mr. Chestwood. I sat alone as I watched my velvet red date swiftly fly through the crowd, being swept off her feet from every well-dressed, cordial gentlemen. The cushioned chair was soft, though. It provided me with all the comfort and support I needed. I didn’t care that she left, I didn’t care that my feeble heart was shattered once again. So I left. “She can find her own ride home,” was a mantra of mine on the way to the car. I sat for awhile. I don’t know why, but I did. A strong aroma of roses plagued my nose, Swelling up from my blood-red boutonniere. The blood-red boutonniere Valerie deceived me with. “Why am I crying? I never cry.” I drove home before my emotions could consume me further, listening to melodic tunes to calm my inner most concerns. When I arrived home it was nearly midnight, and right above me were thousands of stars mocking me with their vibrant glow. All the stars, nestled in the ambient twilight, sitting, staring. “Shut up!” I screamed as insanity pumped vigorously through my veins. The brown hue of my eyes were flooded with fiery rancor. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take the pressure. I couldn’t take the cold-heartedness. I couldn’t take the aching. I couldn’t take being mocked. I couldn’t take being, being Used. Used for my father’s money, Used as a punching bag, Used for my empathetic ways, Used for my unwavering ability to never say no. I sat in the dew covered grass, illumed by the pale moonlight, and as I gazed into the endless eyes of the sky, I became empowered. Perhaps with my own fear, or eccentric thoughts, but I felt electric. “No!” I screamed. “I said no! I will not go to prom with you! No, I hate football! No, you cannot punch me! No, I don’t drink! No, dad, you cannot hit me! No, mom, you cannot get wasted tonight! No, God, you cannot keep me here any longer! No. No.” I did it you know. I stayed true to my word. I did it. Rusted Steel, I said no to life.

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Rusted Steel

The vast array of colored lights illuminated the jovial faces of the youthful teens As Ms. Durmstrang antiquely waltzed with Mr. Chestwood. I sat alone as I watched my velvet red date swiftly fly through the crowd, being swept off her feet from every well-dressed, cordial gentlemen. The cushioned chair was soft, though. It provided me with all the comfort and support I needed. I didn’t care that she left, I didn’t care that my feeble heart was shattered once again. So I left. “She can find her own ride home,” was a mantra of mine on the way to the car. I sat for awhile. I don’t know why, but I did. A strong aroma of roses plagued my nose, Swelling up from my blood-red boutonniere. The blood-red boutonniere Valerie deceived me with. “Why am I crying? I never cry.” I drove home before my emotions could consume me further, listening to melodic tunes to calm my inner most concerns. When I arrived home it was nearly midnight, and right above me were thousands of stars mocking me with their vibrant glow. All the stars, nestled in the ambient twilight, sitting, staring. “Shut up!” I screamed as insanity pumped vigorously through my veins. The brown hue of my eyes were flooded with fiery rancor. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take the pressure. I couldn’t take the cold-heartedness. I couldn’t take the aching. I couldn’t take being mocked. I couldn’t take being, being Used. Used for my father’s money, Used as a punching bag, Used for my empathetic ways, Used for my unwavering ability to never say no. I sat in the dew covered grass, illumed by the pale moonlight, and as I gazed into the endless eyes of the sky, I became empowered. Perhaps with my own fear, or eccentric thoughts, but I felt electric. “No!” I screamed. “I said no! I will not go to prom with you! No, I hate football! No, you cannot punch me! No, I don’t drink! No, dad, you cannot hit me! No, mom, you cannot get wasted tonight! No, God, you cannot keep me here any longer! No. No.” I did it you know. I stayed true to my word. I did it. Rusted Steel, I said no to life.