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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: personal truth

  • Refusing the Script: A Poem About Rejecting Expectations and Conformity

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Sometimes people expect you to play a role they’ve already written for you. A role shaped by their fears, their politics, or their idea of what loyalty should look like.

    This poem is about refusing that script.

    — Rowan Evans

    A spotlight illuminating a torn script on an empty stage symbolizing refusing expectations and imposed roles.
    Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is refuse the role others expect you to play.

    Refusing the Script
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I feel I lost my voice
    in a way,
    put pen to page,
    learned the cost to say—
    translating rage,
    when writing
    came to stay.

    Breaking bars
    on the mental cage,
    so I could escape.
    I’m no actor—
    I don’t perform,
    but life’s a stage.

    I can hear
    your expectations,
    the way you
    judge from fear—
    and manipulation.
    You see,
    I’ve dwelled within
    emotion.

    You can’t twist my thoughts,
    to change my view,
    set in stone, not glass—
    solid, not see-through.

    I’m no actor—
    I won’t perform
    for your applause.
    I won’t play my part,
    won’t fall in line.
    Won’t pledge allegiance,
    show no hollow pride.
    And you simply
    cannot convince me,
    to see no value
    in a human life.

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

  • Call of the Tide – A Poem About Identity, Belonging & Being Drawn Beyond Borders

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    This piece isn’t about hatred for where I’m from.
    It’s about honesty.

    For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt the pull of something beyond the shoreline I was born on. Not rebellion. Not fantasy. Just a quiet, persistent tide.

    “Drawn to Sea” is both wordplay and truth – a recognition that sometimes the call we feel isn’t about escape, but alignment. I don’t believe other people are wrong for loving where they are rooted. I simply know that my roots may be meant for different soil.

    Some of us don’t reject the shore.

    We just hear another one calling.

    — Rowan Evans

    A person standing alone at the edge of the ocean at sunset, looking toward the horizon in contemplation.
    Some shores are inherited.
    Others call you by name.

    Call of the Tide (Drawn to SEA)
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    You can call me Moana
    the way I’m drawn to SEA,
    but there is no demi-god
    helping me.

    I must face the waves alone.

    The waves of hate
    from people in the place
    they say,
    I’m supposed to call home.

    But I’m American
    in label only.
    My mind frame
    does not align
    with the anthem
    in their sentiments.

    I’m not saying
    they’re wrong.
    I’m just saying
    I don’t belong.

    This place is not home.
    This shore was never my own.
    I’ve felt the pull of tides
    since my earliest days.
    So I stand at the edge—
    watching the horizon,
    waiting for the water
    to call my name.

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