What would make you shoot someone?

What would make you shoot someone?
Point a gun to their head, look into their pleading eyes,
And pull the trigger.
What goes on in your mind as they fall limp to the ground?
A triumphant cheer? A stray tear?
Their inanimate selves, as you leave behind and walk,
Would you remember?
Their faces. Their voices.
What would make you shoot them?
Is it that easy to cease their breaths?
A person is no more. 
A person shall rot.
And your trigger shall be the cause.
What would make you pull it?
What do you think before that?
It is just a child, that face knows no guilt.
Only fear.
What do you hate there? What is it that you're trying to erase?
That man that just fell on your knives.
His only guilt was that he had slapped his child once.
What do you seek? What have so far found?
Oh, think. The streets are lined with the blood of your games.
They could all have loved.
And now a war, you've started.
What are your reasons. Tell me of every one of them.
I'm waiting to grow up and I will have my bullet ready.
Have your answers ready too, by then.