None's written a poem for him he said... well, I'm glad I got to be your first! ;)
This isn't something one would get welled up reading, But this one's for and of you, nonetheless!

The door cracks open,
Dust and splinters, carpeting the floor.
The glass panels all in a downpour,
The shattered crystals shining in a gazillion
I look up through tears, the bottom of soda bottle and mumble,
Sir, you've walked in at the wrong time,
The Bar is closed!

Warm smile, inconspicuous looks
Smart and witty, just the way he should
Must be a drug dealer in disguise, I thought,
Charmer, of some sort
I take a stance, whoever he might be -
Sir, you've walked in at the wrong time,
The Bar is closed!

He takes a step further, Cool, Poised and Calm.
Sits down by the wrecks, and starts to read my palm.
His grip tight, his smile so warm, perfect.
If some looks could kill, this would resurrect!
His words were like magic, I stutter,
Sir… Sir, you've walked in at the wrong time,
The Bar is closed!

“Devastation tiling itself stout, in gloom,
Splinters of dreams piercing onto the new, making it trivial,
And right now, a support to stand by, is all I consider crucial -
To help repair the damage, bring life back to normal, at least, almost”

You’re not the support sir, you’re a mere drug.
The custom mix sort, you’d still get me weary.
You’re a drug that eases the pain, but doesn't cure any,
Killing me some day, fraternizing in my blood.
And about that someday, I’d skip thinking as much as I could.
Still, Sir, you've walked in at the wrong time,
The Bar is closed, for renovation!

I smile, looking hopeful Nonetheless,
“Now if you might close the door behind
Sir, You could work your magic in here. Us, combined!”