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 Harsh sunlight simmers my arm to redness, Poplar leaves rustle and pixilate, Seen through his view point it’s a lit screen, Sending him signals and refracting back His own thoughts, emotions and subtle commands. He tracks his fingers through greasy locks And I see the muddy smears on his ankle, Maybe from a walk or the root vegetables, He scatters about his flat, beetroots beneath the bed Parsnips under the sink and shattered mirror. His forearms are bare, white thick lines cross In uniform patterns up past the elbow. He can feel something, inside the neurons, Scrambling the chemicals, reacting and flowing Down his arms, he demonstrates rubbing his hand Up and down the length of his delicate arm. But it’s stuck somewhere, the chemicals are lodged Somewhere in the blood and need to be flushed out, It could be, it must be, seething below The surface of his skin, he feels it there writhing. His eyes fall heavy downwards, Deep opaque amber and he’s squinting at me Pain crumpling his face like a puppy, Kicked in the guts. “It’s better, I’m better.” His heart shimmering and translucent, it could burst Through with its desperate beating, The alchemy of dread and panic, I see the heart bulge, His phantom chemicals blocking it up. His hands hang by his sides as we say goodbye, Wanting something to hold, But we’ve nothing to offer but appointments, A free gym pass, a bus pass and a chat. He walks into the midday sun, Leaves quivering, Chemicals surging the brain. A stick figure in black, Stumbling on.
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