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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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So at 47 I have arrived. A position most disconcerting, Troubling? Nay, Downright disturbing! A blatant assault.! An ego in default. Should have steered left, Perhaps joined a cult. Having settled back into the lap, Of my original birth sack, I am anything but patient. I now care for My matriarch. Ancient! As she skids down that slippery, Persnickety, slope, That slaughterhouse of all hope. Toward her final expiration. Once a beauty of The extraordinary kind With the quickest of mind, Don't get it twisted. Aging is nothing if not unkind, Names of her clan, She now labors over, unable to find. Her once glowing blonde tresses, Sexy, 50’s signature dresses, Athletic leaps, impressive, All night sexual feats, Replaced now with wrinkles. A faint frame, once sturdy Now wobbles and crinkles. I shall have her warped feet, it appears, Twisted, worn down from all the years, As I step back and upsize, The navy blue faded from her eyes, Now light gray, I see my own, Paired with my offensive demise. I say “Nay!!!” Launching a rather Loudly inappropriate protest. With all of my feisty lather, I attempt a half-assed jest! But I'm not joking. I am not. Gravity. What a horribly shitty guest! I opt out!! I simply do. It just not for me. This aging get-down, Perhaps it's for you? But not I. Protesting with an icy chill, This is a far cry from a thrill. (Excuse me for just a moment, I must go take another pill.) Sore joints, crows feet, vision going South? I have had my fill! You must understand my decision, Appreciate my unprecedented position. I have been paying for the botulism syringe, Carefully dodging sunbeams that offend, From beneath my wide brimmed hat. Ordering fine potions. (Please! Ship STAT!) Getting any older? Nope. Not doing that! I opt out! Yes, you heard me, I'm simply won’t go. I've called the 800 number, About losing my glow. What about my sexual, slippery slide, Threatening a possible dry run? Not happening! My feisty partner laughs and says, “Princess Vanity,” you have no choice here!” I say “Nay!” “I refuse!” I’ll even give up my, Lavish festivities, The entire month I decided to show, If I can dramatically get this aging thing to slow! You enjoy getting older, but I’m showing age the door. I shall remain the way I am at present, Don’t care what’s inevitable, It matters not who says it. This girl is aging no more. I opt out!!!

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Opting Out

So at 47 I have arrived. A position most disconcerting, Troubling? Nay, Downright disturbing! A blatant assault.! An ego in default. Should have steered left, Perhaps joined a cult. Having settled back into the lap, Of my original birth sack, I am anything but patient. I now care for My matriarch. Ancient! As she skids down that slippery, Persnickety, slope, That slaughterhouse of all hope. Toward her final expiration. Once a beauty of The extraordinary kind With the quickest of mind, Don't get it twisted. Aging is nothing if not unkind, Names of her clan, She now labors over, unable to find. Her once glowing blonde tresses, Sexy, 50’s signature dresses, Athletic leaps, impressive, All night sexual feats, Replaced now with wrinkles. A faint frame, once sturdy Now wobbles and crinkles. I shall have her warped feet, it appears, Twisted, worn down from all the years, As I step back and upsize, The navy blue faded from her eyes, Now light gray, I see my own, Paired with my offensive demise. I say “Nay!!!” Launching a rather Loudly inappropriate protest. With all of my feisty lather, I attempt a half-assed jest! But I'm not joking. I am not. Gravity. What a horribly shitty guest! I opt out!! I simply do. It just not for me. This aging get-down, Perhaps it's for you? But not I. Protesting with an icy chill, This is a far cry from a thrill. (Excuse me for just a moment, I must go take another pill.) Sore joints, crows feet, vision going South? I have had my fill! You must understand my decision, Appreciate my unprecedented position. I have been paying for the botulism syringe, Carefully dodging sunbeams that offend, From beneath my wide brimmed hat. Ordering fine potions. (Please! Ship STAT!) Getting any older? Nope. Not doing that! I opt out! Yes, you heard me, I'm simply won’t go. I've called the 800 number, About losing my glow. What about my sexual, slippery slide, Threatening a possible dry run? Not happening! My feisty partner laughs and says, “Princess Vanity,” you have no choice here!” I say “Nay!” “I refuse!” I’ll even give up my, Lavish festivities, The entire month I decided to show, If I can dramatically get this aging thing to slow! You enjoy getting older, but I’m showing age the door. I shall remain the way I am at present, Don’t care what’s inevitable, It matters not who says it. This girl is aging no more. I opt out!!!