Mom's Day Sonnet, a Glib Warm-Up

Of three billion contenders God considered to be my mother some thirty-odd years in the rear ago, the one He delivered, all things considered, could’ve been (cue her tears) much worse. My mom [insert a Hallmark cliché] and for that reason alone, when compared to yours, is a far better mother, okay? I mean, look at this sonnet her son prepared - it’s dang near a lock to squat on the fridge, held by a magnetized green letter ‘B’- ‘B’ as in Beneath a Bridge I’d likely live, for all my corners cut and talents blown, had I not been Blessed with a mom like my own. 5/2/2019