Answer:
Round as a button, deep as a well. If you want me to talk, you must first pull my tail.
Has feathers but can't fly. Rests on legs but can't walk.
I can be written, I can be spoken, I can be exposed, I can be broken.
Always wax, yet always wane: I melt, succumbed to the flame. Lighting darkness, with fate unblest, I soon devolve to shapeless mess.
There are several different kinds, but the one you pick doesn't do its job. What is it?
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?