The Pig Who Died

There once lived a twig
He was called Stig
He was named after my cat
Once he baked a silly hat
Stig was a bad boy
He would lick his toy
He would play with them
He thought they were hem
Those toys were for adults
And I don't know what rhymes with adults
Stig was only four
And he wanted more
When he got old
And he lived off of mold
He became a crumb
For that's what all playful twigs become
Then a cute little pig ate him
And his life got very dim
For an evil farmer who was a dork
Made the innocent pig into pork
And then the farmer got struck by lightning
He did not die, but he was paralyzed which is worse