Butt what am I?

And what am I?
The little toe?
The elbow skin?
What do I bring that would be missed
If I did not exist?

Am I the holy nose hairs?
Ugly and just functional
One of a wide
And mostly unneeded
Fleet of clones?

Or could I be the blessed buttcheek
Of the church?
Not doing much of anything
Probably best
If I’m kept from the guests
And not waved in their faces

Perhaps the faithful funnybone?
Function unknown
But a bit of a jolt
When I’m noticed?

Whatever I am
I am not worth the trouble
And can hardly be regarded
With pride

But the head doesn’t want
Every part of the body
To glow and impress
Or to show what it’s worth
Through strength and success

Still, I’m tempted to guess
In the church
Every week
What the glorious buttcheek
Serves to bring

But the head says
Don’t fuss, don’t worry
Just do
Think less about you
And which part you should play
And just serve anyway

Learn by loving
Decide by doing
Persist in praying
And offer up your life

You may not be pretty
Or bright as the eyes
But even the buttcheeks are needed