The Closing Shutters

Intelligent, competent, becoming more confused,
Not quite useless, but like a favourite glove used
Which now has split, gone way beyond repair,
Will no longer fit, even if stitched with loving care.

So what next, more frequently that vacant stare?
It started slowly, moments appeared to be rare,
Got overlooked, seen as a forgetful moment,
Then became a trickle, a stream and now a torrent.

"Doesn't know how, can't remember or have forgotten,"
Once a perfect fruit, over ripe, turning rotten,
Yet still remains the dearest sweetest fruit to me,
Although the real person is so much harder to see.

Personality changing, fingers fidget, fumble,
Frustrated, not so placid, easily turns to grumble.
A partnership ending, it's unbearable to find
I am watching unseen shutters closing on a mind.