Da Vinci Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The gears grind, stories spin,
Genre shows, they often sin.
Da Vinci's Demons, bold and bright,
Stumbles in the fading light.

Leonardo the man, was he gay?
The hints are there, some people say.
The show, it nods, a fleeting glance,
Then swerves away, a hesitant dance.

A lover's touch, a quick goodbye,
Then Lucrezia's eyes catch his eye.
A nod to history, quickly done,
Heteronormativity's sun.

His bisexuality, a hidden thing,
No same-sex love, no joyful ring.
A future vision, wife and son,
A different choice, the story's run.

And then the shadows start to grow,
Where people of color seldom glow.
Evil, mentor, servant too,
Their lives extinguished, fading from view.

Zita's love, a twisted chain,
'Master, ' she calls, enduring pain.
To die for him, a tragic plea,
A sacrifice, needlessly.

The show has flaws, for all to see,
Representation's failing decree.
Genre's traps, they hold it fast,
A missed chance, a moment passed.