Not doing a thing

I can’t concentrate on anything
All day long, in front of a screen
Be it the World Cup, or someone’s rambling
My notebook aside, empty and clean

Many things add up to trouble
On the simplest task, I remain still
My father knows, he sees through me
I don’t want to fail his will

While doing this very writing
There’s still work to do, I’ve seen
Maybe after this I will be starting
Be it homework, or a project, or a dream