Change, me?

Introspective

My eyes are tired,
too tired to see
The obvious in front of me
My mind spends time
In other places
And brings to me fragmented traces

If I reflected
And took time out
A sense of things I'd have less doubt
But I am a creature
Who does not think
I do what comes upon instinct

I feel, I know
No reason why
I write things once, no second try
My paint's on canvass
No sketch initial
You'll see my heart not superficial

Would I change
My traits remove
And could my outward face improve
Would my writing improve by letter
And paintings suddenly be better

I doubt it would be my reflection
As after taking close inspection
Of my rhyming introspection
Change to me is not correction

brilliance comes from imperfection