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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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Africa has no address this is a place at war. Here are poor houses and poor people. The people live here like cockroaches, they've been here a long time. People no longer people, people deprived of hearts, minds, people without function for which an address doesn't exist worse: in whose name political conspirators are engaged in the looting of the national treasury The young leave quickly unwilling to know the wisdom of their estranged parents. Even the barking dogs would rather wrestle than eat-- while the roaming chickens play hide-and-seek with the smallest children. The old colonial farms have gone back to forest the new resettled farmer knows only the sun knows nothing of food or of farming The new doctor has borrowed the witchdoctor's face leaving his usual surgery to wander some dilapidated, half imagined hospital where experiments are performed on people I came to deliver a letter I came to save the damned, the scum of your society. And now: it is easy to forget what I came for this here's a world of losers and sinners and all I see is the darkness of your soul. I thought hard for us all--my only letter-- then threw it away into the darkness, and was overtaken inexplicably by sorrow. I had tasted the face of Africa. Africa has no address.

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Africa Has No Address

Africa has no address this is a place at war. Here are poor houses and poor people. The people live here like cockroaches, they've been here a long time. People no longer people, people deprived of hearts, minds, people without function for which an address doesn't exist worse: in whose name political conspirators are engaged in the looting of the national treasury The young leave quickly unwilling to know the wisdom of their estranged parents. Even the barking dogs would rather wrestle than eat-- while the roaming chickens play hide-and-seek with the smallest children. The old colonial farms have gone back to forest the new resettled farmer knows only the sun knows nothing of food or of farming The new doctor has borrowed the witchdoctor's face leaving his usual surgery to wander some dilapidated, half imagined hospital where experiments are performed on people I came to deliver a letter I came to save the damned, the scum of your society. And now: it is easy to forget what I came for this here's a world of losers and sinners and all I see is the darkness of your soul. I thought hard for us all--my only letter-- then threw it away into the darkness, and was overtaken inexplicably by sorrow. I had tasted the face of Africa. Africa has no address.