A Nation of Crabs

They are like crabs
Squirming around
Inside a bucket,
All of them trying
To escape captivity,
But the moment
One of them appears
Ready to succeed,
The others reach up
And pull him back down.
Each crab is out for himself
And himself alone,
For no two crabs
Will work together
For more than a moment or two
Before one of them
Stabs the other
In the back.
I suppose they are waiting
For the crab
Who would be King
To extract himself
From the fray
And show the rest
The path to freedom,
But all who escape
Seek another life
And leave the rest to squirm.