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)Required Don't look for me at the graveyard I am not dead but alive hopefully. I still have teeth to eat the cultured kola, I still attain to my yam in the fire. Even if I breathe last, my deeds remain. I have not been caught up in the cage; The cage of change ravaging our land. We are not in all progressive club together, Don't search into my blank expression to see What to talk about, I now speak in spirit. Tell father to guide the house behind, Tell mother that her son has gone to Speak with his fate surrounded in shame. Tell sister that her prayers I seek daily, Tell brother to keep watch over the farm. Let them keep watch over the farmland, If the craving oil wells dry up in the south And the madness of the north reduce a little Then, that farmland will savour us forever; I know the wells are angry ready to revolt. When Ken spoke of today they all mocked Him and even killed him shamefully there. Wole stood and battled and they hurt him, Chinua raged in anger but they never listened, Now I go in search of my mantle of words. So, don't look for me if I come not again, Posterity send me to advocate against folly. If the bottle of misunderstanding remains, The kettle will call the pot black and none Would talk about it, we've taken shed to hide evil. Don't look for me among the Aristocrats there, The thorny fate of my kind I'm in search of. The lurking eyes of tomorrow stand there, My basket of words are not lacking fibre of joy, Don't look for me at the grave yard, I'm alive. (C) John Vincent Voice Of Vincent 2016
Enter Author Name (Not Required)