Two titles pull against each other here: "Motivationless" and "Life's Magic." The poem sets them side by side. The first two lines offer gentle, almost postcard-like pleasures: clouds drifting past, birds singing. These are the kind of small wonders people are often told to appreciate.
But the speaker can't take comfort in them. The second half turns to sitting and crying, and the reason is blunt: "you cant do a thing." The "you" is interesting. It may be the speaker talking to themselves, or speaking to anyone who has felt this way. Either way, it sounds like helplessness more than simple laziness.
The mood is quiet and sad, with a flat, tired tone. The short lines and plain rhymes ("sing" and "thing," "by" and "cry") make it feel stuck, like the speaker going round in the same place. The magic of life is right there, and the speaker can only watch it from a distance.