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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: identity poem

  • Imaginary Lines – A Poem About Borders, Identity & Shared Humanity

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    This piece came from a lifelong feeling of distance – not just from place, but from the way people divide themselves.

    It isn’t anti-country. It isn’t anti-culture. It’s anti-separation.

    I’ve never understood how imaginary lines on maps can outweigh shared humanity. This poem is me saying plainly what I’ve felt for years: we are far more alike than we are different, and the borders we defend so fiercely don’t exist in our blood or our bones.

    This isn’t rebellion for the sake of rebellion.
    It’s clarity.

    — Rowan Evans

    A symbolic image of a cracked border line beneath a star-filled sky, representing unity beyond national divisions.
    The border isn’t the edge of the world. It’s the edge of perception.

    Imaginary Lines
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I don’t feel
    like I’m from here,
    like I come from out
    beyond the stars—
    somewhere far,
    lightyears beyond mars.

    I watch and observe,
    as humans continue
    to act absurd.
    It’s like they
    don’t know how
    to act.
    Kind of like
    they don’t know how
    to treat each other.

    Focused on imaginary lines,
    barriers and borders.
    With a—
    if you’re not like me,
    you’re the enemy
    mentality.

    When you bleed
    it all looks the same.
    Human is human.
    The rest is costume.

    No passport in the bloodstream.
    No nation in the bone.

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

  • Be Proud – A Poem About Identity, Disconnection, and Refusing Forced Patriotism

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    This piece isn’t about hating a place.
    It’s about refusing to perform pride I don’t feel.

    For most of my life, I’ve carried a quiet disconnect—and what’s always surprised me isn’t the feeling itself, but how personal other people take it. As if my lack of attachment is an accusation.

    It isn’t.

    It’s just honesty.

    Be Proud is about boundaries. About recognizing that someone else’s love for something doesn’t require my imitation. And that some feelings run too deep to be argued out of existence.

    — Rowan Evans

    A solitary person standing apart from a distant city skyline under a dramatic evening sky.
    You can love it.
    I just don’t.

    Be Proud
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    It’s always been funny to me,
    the way people argue with me.
    Why does my disconnect
    affect you so badly?
    Why do you take
    my wanting to leave,
    so personal?

    If you’re proud,
    be proud—
    I don’t care,
    honestly.

    You’re wasting your breath,
    you’re wasting your time—
    because, you’re never going to
    change my mind.
    I’ve been like this
    for most of my life,
    so tell me—
    do you really think
    your opinion will
    change something
    so marrow deep?

    Look, you love America—
    I get it, I really do,
    and I wish
    I was a little more
    like you.

    But I’m not.

    And I can’t fake it,
    you can’t make me.

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

  • Crossroads of Flame – A Poem About Choosing the Unknown | Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Crossroads of Flame was born from a moment of choosing discomfort over safety, and creation over silence. It reflects the turning point between who I was and who I am becoming—not only as a poet, but as the many voices I carry within me. Roo, Hex, B.D., and I each walk different inner landscapes, but all of us share the same ember: the belief that the unknown is worth stepping into, even when it burns.

    This poem marks a new phase of intention. A deliberate path forward. A reminder that comfort is quiet, but purpose is loud—and I am choosing to listen.

    — Rowan Evans

    Poetic gothic illustration of a lone figure at a crossroads under a twilight sky, facing a wild burning path toward the unknown.
    A crossroads beneath a burning sky—the moment intention becomes transformation.

    Crossroads of Flame
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I stand at a crossroads—
    two paths stretch beneath a waning sky,
    one worn and familiar, lined with shadows I know,
    the other narrow, veiled in bramble and whispered risk.

    The first hums a lullaby of comfort,
    soft, forgiving, predictable.
    I could walk it blindfolded,
    count the cracks beneath my feet,
    and know I will not falter.

    But the second calls in a voice I barely recognize,
    a tremor beneath the wind,
    a hint of fire beneath frost.
    It asks nothing of me—yet demands all:
    my attention, my courage, my deliberate steps.

    I carve my own instead.
    Through tangled shrubs and corridors of darkened wood,
    I trace a path that no map can hold,
    listening to the pulse beneath my ribs,
    the hum that answers back:
    Roo, Hex, B.D., and me—
    four voices intertwined,
    four flames in one vessel,
    guiding, guarding, urging.

    Alone—yet never alone—
    I step carefully, feeling each stone,
    each thorn, each sigh of wind through the leaves.
    The safe path still beckons behind me,
    a ghost of ease I might have chosen.
    But the wild one waits, insistent,
    its promise stitched with challenge
    and the weight of things I have yet to become.

    I am the storm and the calm,
    the knife that severs hesitation,
    the hand that steadies,
    the ember that refuses to die.
    I am the whisper in the dark corridors,
    the laughter in the bramble,
    the ache that drives me forward.

    Tonight I choose not comfort.
    Tonight I choose intent.
    Tonight I choose to step beyond what I know,
    into the narrow, the jagged, the luminous unknown,
    and let the path unfold beneath my careful flame.

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

    Leave a comment and tell me which path you would choose.