Cuckoo Clock

I want to be the poem not the poet The actor not the writer The Cover page and not the binding Not the trainer but the fighter But that’s not me. Not ever me I yearn to be the face of my skill But I am only the shadowed background I’m too ugly to fit the bill I will never be the recognizable stamp The art itself in form I will always be the replaceable craftsman While my craft is then adorned Replace me. I am a cog. I function as the fashion does mock I want to be known and loved cherished To be the face of this damn cuckoo clock