Author’s Note

I’ve never been particularly good at thinking in borders.

When I look at a map, I see countries.

When I look at people, I don’t.

I’ve always found it easier to connect with someone’s story than with the place they happened to be born. A passport can tell you where someone came from, but it can’t tell you what keeps them awake at night, what they dream about, or what they’ve survived.

That’s the part that interests me.

This poem isn’t political.

It’s personal.

It’s an attempt to describe the way I’ve always experienced humanity—as something far larger than geography.

I don’t believe compassion should stop at a border.

I don’t believe kindness needs a nationality.

Maybe that’s why so much of my writing wanders across oceans and continents, chasing people I’ll probably never meet, writing about places I’ve only visited through dreams, conversations, photographs, and stories.

To me, humanity has always felt like one conversation happening in countless languages.

Different histories.

Different landscapes.

The same heartbeat.

That’s all this poem is trying to say.

We’re all just human.

— Rowan Evans

Just Human
Poetry by Rowan Evans

With my eyes wide—
I see the world.
Not one corner.
The whole globe,
and I’ve got love for it.

Every person,
every soul—
not divided by borders,
not separated by flags,
just human.

Just here.

Trying to make it
through the same sunrise
and the same storms.

Not because I know them,
but because I recognize them—
the way a heartbeat
recognizes another heartbeat
anywhere on Earth.

I don’t split the map
into colors or countries.
I don’t measure worth
by lines drawn long before I was born.
I just see people—
living, trying, hoping.

Maybe it’s the way I grew up
feeling like I belonged everywhere
and nowhere at once.

Maybe it’s the way strangers
always felt more familiar
than the places I called home.

Because home, to me,
was never a location—

it was a feeling,
a recognition,
a quiet knowing
that we’re all carrying
the same fragile humanity
through different landscapes.

And when I say
I love the world,
I mean I love its people—

the way they rise,
the way they break,
the way they keep going
even when the map
forgets their names.

Journey into the Hexverse…

[Another Fire]
A powerful poem exploring global chaos, systemic inequality, and emotional exhaustion in a world where conflict grows faster than it can be understood.

[Raising Governments]
A sharp, satirical poem that reframes global leadership as misbehaving children, Raising Governments blends humor with frustration to highlight the immaturity and contradictions often seen in power structures.

[Government Time-Out]
A direct and controlled follow-up to Raising Governments, this poem strips away humor to confront power with accountability—demanding reflection, responsibility, and change.

[Calculating Profits (Ledger of Lives)]
Calculating Profits (Ledger of Lives) is a raw anti-war poem confronting how modern conflict is often reduced to statistics, strategy, and spectacle. Through stark imagery and direct language, Rowan Evans challenges the “us vs. them” narrative and reminds readers that behind every number in war’s ledger is a human life.

[Crash Landed]
A reflective poem about feeling like an outsider in a world shaped by tribalism, selective compassion, and identity-driven thinking.

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