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 Pied Piper in the village square – a man With a wooden flute and a golden plan – Whatever are you doing here? Did the elders panic, call you in To purge the town of salt and sin? Are you here to blow the bugler’s call Enlist us for a noble cause Or show us more of days to come? Perhaps, at last, to save us all From what we’re always running from? Have you come to lead us all away Or lead us all astray (At least a few, if not us all)? Have you a list of names to call Or have you been instructed To simply play your tune And accept all comers unobstructed? How will you declare success, Pied Piper man? Based purely on arithmetic? By the countless heads you lead away The burglar, banker, drummer The muggers and the toughs? Or will one lonely soul be just enough? ----- I have heard the magic of your song A siren call that strikes the soul – Have felt the urge to heed, although My conscience cries out “No!” It’s simply that I wonder – no, acknowledge! That it’s better off to lead, than to be led (And therein lies the struggle, the conundrum Which so many men have failed to plumb) Oh, Pied Piper, piper man, you are charismatic And your song, sweet and clear Was once upon a time magnetic But those who have once been led astray Are twice averse to being played And the sound of the pipe is mournful more Than ever it was when heard before For there’s nary a tune that you could play That would leave us less forsaken Than the staggering loss of our yesterdays That your wicked charms have taken
Enter Author Name (Not Required)