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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: Escape

  • Just Visiting – A Poem About Not Feeling at Home

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    I’ve written around this feeling for years — in metaphors, in longing, in coded language about distance and departure.

    This is the first time I’ve said it this plainly.

    For most of my life, I’ve felt like a visitor in the place I was born. Not in a dramatic way. Not in a rebellious way. Just in a quiet, persistent way that never left.

    This piece isn’t about anger. It isn’t about rejection.

    It’s about finally naming what I’ve always known—
    that sometimes “home” is assigned to you,
    and sometimes it’s something you’re still moving toward.

    — Rowan Evans

    A lone traveler standing in an airport terminal at dusk, looking out at distant city lights with a suitcase beside them.
    Sometimes the place you’re born isn’t the place you’re meant to stay.

    Just Visiting
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I’ve been talking about it a lot lately,
    this feeling of wanting to escape
    that I’ve had since I was just a baby.
    I was forced to call this place home,
    because this is where I was born—
    it never felt like home,
    just a place I was visiting.

    Every day in school—
    I’d recite the pledge,
    like a good
    little patriot
    should.
    But I didn’t believe in it,
    there was no allegiance in it.

    They say they’re proud to be an American,
    well me? I’ve never been,
    because this is just a place to me.
    I’ve said it before, once in this poem alone—
    this place has never been my home.

    And I’ve lived all across it.
    Never once have I have felt planted,
    no roots took hold.
    Felt like a tourist—
    in a place I was
    supposed to belong.

    But I’ve known for a while now,
    my place is not within these borders.
    This place will never be
    home for me.
    But it will always be
    a part of me. (Sadly.)

    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

  • Escape & Longing: Tropical Dreams and Distant Shores – Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Double-Feature Intro

    Sometimes the world feels too heavy to bear, and the soul begins to dream of places it has never touched. Two paths emerge—one of quiet surrender, the other of yearning flight. These pieces explore that journey: the weight of what we leave behind, and the promise of somewhere beyond the horizon.

    Figure standing on a tropical shore at sunset, gazing toward distant islands, representing longing and the desire to escape.
    Longing for distant shores, finding peace beyond what I’ve known.

    Escape Route
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I want to step off this soil,
    feel its weight fade from my bones,
    like a chain I never asked for,
    a history I never owned.

    I long for skies not heavy with judgment,
    for oceans that don’t pull me under,
    to breathe air not tainted with promises
    that leave the soul shattered,
    like glass beneath tired feet.

    I would trade the land of endless noise,
    the echoes of hollow dreams,
    for silence—
    for the quiet of somewhere far,
    where the world doesn’t scream
    but whispers,
    and I can finally exhale.

    Somewhere else,
    where home isn’t built on brokenness,
    where freedom isn’t borrowed
    but earned.

    Tropical Longing
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I wake up each day,
    mind focused on the journey ahead—
    I’m putting plans in motion,
    to cross oceans,
    to leave behind this land of plenty,
    where many have none.
    I long for the land
    of white sand beaches and palm trees,
    I long for a tropical sun.

    Life upon a different shore,
    it’s calling me.
    And I think about it longingly.
    Get me out of here,
    get me to where my heart feels at peace.
    Instead of here,
    where I feel like I’m pulling myself in two,
    stretched thin between what is and what could be—
    like waves crashing against jagged rocks,
    each one breaking off a piece of me.

    The Philippines—
    a dream painted in shades of emerald and gold,
    the promise of solace in the whisper of the sea.
    But here, the air is heavy,
    clouds hang low with burdens of the past,
    while I yearn for a sky unshackled,
    where the horizon stretches far beyond
    the limits of what I know.

    Palm trees sway like dancers,
    and the sun burns bright,
    calling me to walk barefoot,
    where my soul can feel the sand,
    and my heart can finally breathe.
    But for now,
    I’m tethered to this place,
    this world where the weight is felt
    with every step I take.

    Still, I hold onto the dream,
    the image of an island beyond the mist—
    where peace resides,
    and I can shed the pull of this dual life,
    and rest beneath the warmth of the tropical sky.

    Double-Feature Outro

    And so we leave, if only in words—for a moment, we escape the weight of the world. We walk toward distant shores, toward air untainted and skies unbound, carrying pieces of ourselves we thought were lost. Between the tethered and the free, we find the space to breathe, to dream, to simply be.

    Looking for more of my poetry? The Library of Ashes