Path Forward - 26. The Voice of Less Than Zero

The Voice of Less Than Zero

By Brandon Haines
Dedicated to the 11 million voices the Nazi hatred stole, and kibbah (extinguished).

They said my worth was nothing,
a number scratched in ash,
a silence in a ledger
where a human life should be.

They measured me in absence,
in shadows on a wall,
in the space where names were taken
and voices could not call.

They called me less than nothing,
a ghost without a claim,
a life unworthy of the living,
a body without a name.

But still my breath remembers,
the warmth of who I was,
the mother who once held me,
the father’s quiet love.

And though they tried to break me,
to grind me into dust,
the truth outlives the fire—
their hatred turns to rust.

For every life they measured
as less than zero’s sum,
becomes a voice unbroken
in the world that’s yet to come.

I speak for all the vanished,
for the ones they tried to hide,
for the children lost to silence,
for the families torn aside.

I rise from smoke and memory,
from the pages they erased—
a voice they could not silence,
a life they can’t replace.

I am the voice of less than zero—
the one they tried to kill.

And still I rise in witness.

And still…

I am here.

This poem was written from a place of deep reflection on the Holocaust and the millions of lives the Nazi regime tried to erase. I wanted to give voice to those who were stripped of their names, their families, their futures, and even their humanity. The phrase “less than zero” reflects the sadistic ideology that measured certain people as having no worth at all — an ideology so twisted and cruel that it could have come from Tartarus and still shakes the world today.

I wrote this piece to honor the 11 million victims whose voices were stolen — and kibbah, extinguished — and to remind readers that every life has infinite value. No human being is “less than zero.” No life is disposable. No story should be forgotten.

This poem is my way of saying that even when hatred tries to silence someone, their voice can rise again through remembrance, truth, and witness.

May these words serve as a small light in the darkness — a promise that we will not forget.