Your Voice Matters

This powerful and vivid poem by Jean Wolfe explores justice, voice, and the subtle shifts of power that can occur in the workplace. With wit, imagination, and sharp observation, it captures the inner experience many women recognise, the moment of being overlooked, underestimated, or spoken over, and the quiet determination to reclaim space and authority. It is a striking reflection on influence, resilience, and the many ways women assert their presence in the rooms where decisions are made.

Jean regularly explores themes of creativity, voice, and influence through her poetry. If this piece resonates with you, you may enjoy hearing more of her work and the thinking behind it. Jean will be hosting a free online talk titled Poetry for Entrepreneurs: The Creative Way to Success on Friday 27th March at 1pm (UK time), where she will be reading additional poems and sharing how creative expression can support entrepreneurial thinking.

You can find out more and register for the session if you click here: 

Justice at Work

By Jean Wolfe

In the playground
the bullies are coming closer
I go quiet, neutral.

Skirt length unremarkable, occupied
Don’t catch their eye
Hold my breath, wishing
myself into the brick wall

While my friend more reckless
returns the stare, sticks out her tongue
and runs off laughing
Amazingly unscathed.

In the very important meeting
With the very important customer
the gang leader
takes credit for my report, my analysis, my concept.

I freeze.

Guilt shame confusion.

Ten years old in my
Adult body – not too geeky
Not too gorgeous. Unremarkable.

Why can’t I be like my friend!

Suddenly I need to throw
the fat smug bastard
through the sixteenth storey window
hoist with his own glass shard.

I need to ram the pens down
passive throats
tear my report into confetti,
stuff it into every orifice
celebrate!.

So I make an innocent but
intelligent remark
in a variety
of ways
relentlessly
persuasively
until they eventually
get it.

The power in the room shifts, creaks.

The mast of superiority re-angled
Over the flagship idea.

They’re groaning and dying from paper wound
Fountain pen poisoning
Laptop leprosy.

Slumped across desks, rigor mortis
Set in mid-sip
“No sugar dear
must watch the weight” still in the air
not swallowed.

While the icy wind knifes
where no crack is permitted
through the crazed
space
in toughened glass.

I walk on devastation

In my red stilettos
Fish net tights
Frothy skirt
Tailored jacket

Laughing
till I am dancing
on the board room table.

Me and my magic marker
return it all to order
Without a sideways glance
or heartbeat missed.

Space is made for me.

I’ve made a difference
To me.

my peace is a piece of me
top of my agenda
none of their
business.

Me and my best friend run off
giggling
to blow raspberries
with our bubblegum
and leave ‘em standing.

~ Jean Wolfe