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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www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
The Applicant
First, are you our sort of a person?
Do you wear
A glass eye, false teeth or a crutch,
A brace or a hook,
Rubber breasts or a rubber crotch,

Stitches to show something's missing? No, no? Then
How can we give you a thing?
Stop crying.

Open your hand.

Empty? Empty.
Here is a hand

To fill it and willing
To bring teacups and roll away headaches
And do whatever you tell it.

Will you marry it?
It is guaranteed

To thumb shut your eyes at the end
And dissolve of sorrow.

We make new stock from the salt.

I notice you are stark naked.

How about this suit----

Black and stiff, but not a bad fit.

Will you marry it?
It is waterproof, shatterproof, proof
Against fire and bombs through the roof.

Believe me, they'll bury you in it.


Now your head, excuse me, is empty.

I have the ticket for that.

Come here, sweetie, out of the closet.

Well, what do you think of that ?
Naked as paper to start

But in twenty-five years she'll be silver,
In fifty, gold.

A living doll, everywhere you look.

It can sew, it can cook,
It can talk, talk , talk.


It works, there is nothing wrong with it.

You have a hole, it's a poultice.

You have an eye, it's an image.

My boy, it's your last resort.

Will you marry it, marry it, marry it.
Written by: Sylvia Plath

Book: Shattered Sighs