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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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Angry shouts echo off of plaster walls, Painting them sickening shades of despair. She tries to block the noise out; But nobody seems to care. The words aren’t meant for her ears, She is not the one who the barbs are meant to sting, But with their searing heat and deadly edge, Her wounded-animal soul begins to sing. A song of loss, A song of mourning. A song of pain, A song of scorning. She can’t fight the pain. It’s much too real. She just needs something; Something to heal. To heal the pain And heal the hurt And to bury a hatchet in the fresh-tilled dirt. A knife in her hands; A heart in her throat. A lighthouse blinking out; She can’t stay afloat. The pain feels good; The wounds are what heal her. The knife’s deadly call; Its revelry reels her. She finally feels something; Something more than pain. She’s finally gotten something; Something she thought she would never gain. She’s got healing, And she’s got closure. But her sins are dangerous; She can’t risk exposure. So she slips into silence, Never uttering a word. She’s too far gone; The lines are blurred. Her mind is a frosted glass, Her mind is her playground. Her wrist is a canvas; Her soul has drowned. A paintbrush is in her hands, Gleaming in the secret moonlight. She’s given up; It feels so good to lose the fight. Her skin is the stone; Her knife is the chisel. She feels so strong… She feels so brittle. Their voices are in her head; She carries their hearts in her hand. She is dry-eyed now; It is only OR - no and. The blade touches her skin; Their screams reach her ears. If actions speak louder than words, How come nobody hears?
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