A Birthday Poem

Here's another poem.
It wasn't natural for me writing this one,
cos I usually don't try to rhyme.
For me, it's restricting, unnatural and it may end up sounding like some sentimental lyrics from some soppy ballad.
The last stanza is a bit removed from the earlier ones,
cos my cynical streak kicked in then.
So you may read it as two separate poems if you wish.

Some expect presents from all,
saying "It's MY day after all".
Some give presents all around,
"It's my day, and love will abound".
Some give presents to their moms,
for the labour pains before they could come.
Yet some refuse presents and all those stuff,
saying they don't care for 'all those fluff'.

Some boys like the notion of getting older,
cigs, beers, R21 movies will soon be in order.
Most girls don’t like getting older,
it’s goodbye to flawless skins and slender shoulders,
Some remain child-like as they age,
Unclouded innocence their image.
Some become jaded before their time,
cynical and scornful before their prime.

Some like to celebrate at home,
with candles, cake and champagne foam.
Some would rather celebrate away from home,
to avoid the ‘So when are you getting married?’ in mom’s usual tone.
Some kids prefer celebrating at McDonalds,
they get ‘Happy Meals’ and a photo with Ronald Mcdonald!
Some eat noodles and eggs on that day,
for longevity and health they pray.

Some say:
presents,
notions of getting older
and celebrations
are but things
that mark a most randomly begotten date.
But others maintain:
coveting nice presents,
watching their first adult movie on their 21st birthdays,
or posing with the red-haired clown with a perpetual smile,
prove that they are not here by chance.