Poetic but not inspirational

Why is there no flow
No way to increase the glow
The juice
Creativity
Far from reach

Morning rise
With no surprise
Stillness of waters
No spark
No ponders

Is it because of the first weekday?
The weekend took it all away?
Where is it?
Why did it go?

Did it leave with the seasons?
Changing for various reasons?
Some come, some go
Those I prefer are quick to row
Love to show
Then go again
Hardly leaving a shadow

Still I try
To force and pry
Hoping for a spark
Rubbing together
Leaving lots of marks
But nothing to embark
Nothing to entice
The Juice