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Who Am I?
Am I the sun,
or am I the moon?
Life unfolds around the two.
Both are always in their place.
Neither afraid to show his face.

Do I shine,
or just relfect?
Am I just what they expect?
As life unfold before my eyes,
why am I the one that cries?

The sun, or the moon,
or is it just a bit too soon?
The setting sun gives dying light,
and now I know;
I am twilight.