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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 building is imposing, massive and fearful, built in 1862 as a jail and gallows for criminals; conditions for the inmates were inhumane and appalling, the top floor was death row with only one way out. It closed in 1972 and was deemed to be heritage, renovating was done but the creepiness remains; one hundred and fifty unmarked graves were found there, it was a hostel for awhile but was closed soon after. Said to be haunted by the dead inmates hanged, rooms can be rented on that top death row floor; small cells and narrow corridors, a window the only light, some have seen ghosts standing at the end of beds. There are creaking cell doors and heavy footsteps, wailing and weeping and praying all the night long; one night- I rented a top floor room with black cell bars, I was told the daunting gallows remain not far away. I went to my bunk, not really believing the stories, but in a dream I was being caressed by many hands; "STOP!" I screamed. In the dim light no one was with me, I was restless and started walking the dark narrow halls. There was a man walking also and I wanted to talk, "hello, sir!" I called. He did not stop so I followed; he opened a door and went through, I hesitated a moment, then I opened the door to the gallows- he was hanging. His neck was broken- and his eyes bulged out, I tried to scream but no sound came, hands touched me; decomposed dead reached out for me and all had broken necks, I was screaming when the noose was put on my own neck, and my body dropped into an empty void . . . I was found in the morning, crumpled, weeping, talking hysterically about being hanged by ghosts; the mental hospital is not much better than that jail was, I am a raving lunatic seeing those dead men coming, to hang me every single night in the gallows . . . That whole building seeps of tales of haunting, quite sure many innocent people were hanged; and buried there and now they walk the skinny corridors, to hang at night anyone unaware who sleeps there. ______________________________ September 19, 2016 Poetry/Narrative/Draft/Scar Me Good Copyright Protected, ID 16- 831-124-0 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.

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The building is imposing, massive and fearful, built in 1862 as a jail and gallows for criminals; conditions for the inmates were inhumane and appalling, the top floor was death row with only one way out. It closed in 1972 and was deemed to be heritage, renovating was done but the creepiness remains; one hundred and fifty unmarked graves were found there, it was a hostel for awhile but was closed soon after. Said to be haunted by the dead inmates hanged, rooms can be rented on that top death row floor; small cells and narrow corridors, a window the only light, some have seen ghosts standing at the end of beds. There are creaking cell doors and heavy footsteps, wailing and weeping and praying all the night long; one night- I rented a top floor room with black cell bars, I was told the daunting gallows remain not far away. I went to my bunk, not really believing the stories, but in a dream I was being caressed by many hands; "STOP!" I screamed. In the dim light no one was with me, I was restless and started walking the dark narrow halls. There was a man walking also and I wanted to talk, "hello, sir!" I called. He did not stop so I followed; he opened a door and went through, I hesitated a moment, then I opened the door to the gallows- he was hanging. His neck was broken- and his eyes bulged out, I tried to scream but no sound came, hands touched me; decomposed dead reached out for me and all had broken necks, I was screaming when the noose was put on my own neck, and my body dropped into an empty void . . . I was found in the morning, crumpled, weeping, talking hysterically about being hanged by ghosts; the mental hospital is not much better than that jail was, I am a raving lunatic seeing those dead men coming, to hang me every single night in the gallows . . . That whole building seeps of tales of haunting, quite sure many innocent people were hanged; and buried there and now they walk the skinny corridors, to hang at night anyone unaware who sleeps there. ______________________________ September 19, 2016 Poetry/Narrative/Draft/Scar Me Good Copyright Protected, ID 16- 831-124-0 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.