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.
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