Scientologists

It looked like a scene from a sci-fi film When the aliens roam through town, In their matching clothes with their faces set Showing neither a smile nor frown. With determined strides, lone or in a group, They went scurrying to and fro And their stark white shirts and their dark black vests Told me all that I need to know. Past their tax-free lairs and their fenced-in rooms We drove, wondering mostly why Folks would get sucked in to this seeming cult As reality passes them by. Anyone can choose how to live his life And so, too, Scientology peeps, But observing them, all that I can say Is it gave me a case of the creeps.