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 The pain of my people, it flows through my pen The shouts ... the screams, the wails from generations of suffering I spirit heard the painful call of the first foot fall, when my people disembarked from long ships in chains onto strange soil Had our native tongue snatched from our lips, then was told to serve and toil Beaten into submission with whips, and our scarlet pain stained the virgin soil Ever since then, the kettle of our pain has been on the boil And the burning clouds under the heavenly skies were like a cast iron altar, upon which my people’s painful prayers turned into dry evaporated cries Even now, after so long a time, the pot continues to boil And I dip my pen into the scummed bones of tears, overcome with grief from the blood ink that flows For my people were stolen, and given no hope Seven years of servitude wasn’t enough cattle rope With a chain of certainty around their neck; knowing they would live their whole life as a slave, many desired the tender mercy of the grave And that spirit of hopelessness still remains — witness the dope coursing through my people’s veins Taste the apathy clotting the flow to their brains They chose to overdose ... to let the numbness reign And it’s killing me slowly to see my people throw themselves under the tracks of a genocide train My people’s pain has driven them collectively insane Sorrowful tears of my people falls like brimstone rain Now the precious pain of my people, it overflows through my pensive, piercing pen And the tortured slave dreams that my ancestors had, is etched on the faces of their rejected children
Enter Author Name (Not Required)