There was another shooting

Four words, not much effect.
I had heard about the first one,
One in Arvada. Two dead.
One critically injured.
And all I thought was,
How sad. But this one,
This one hit close to home.
I could have been there,
At that church. New Life.
I could have been shot.
It's terrifying to think about,
But there's a morbid curiosity.
What would it be like?
Would I be huddling, cowering
In a closet, praying
I wouldn't be found,
Or would I be caught off guard
And get shot, or would I
Even possibly play the hero,
Trying to take the shots,
Or get the gun away from the shooter.

Why would anyone do this?
To visit a place that has
Done nothing but good, and
Try to kill children, mothers,
Fathers, brothers, sisters.
What would prompt someone
To kill other people,
People who mean something
To another, who are valuable
In someone else's lives.
What would drive anyone
To put a burden of someone's
Life on their soul, to
Take away such a precious thing
From someone who will never
Be able to get it back.